The Union Post
by Billiebee3
Summary: Reaching down to the hem of my dress I pull up the top layer and rip out the layers of itchy, ridiculous crinoline below. If I am going to be forced to marry a complete stranger that I didn't have any say about, he may as well at least understand my opinion about one thing from the beginning.
1. Chapter 1

Katniss Everdeen. I still had that name for today, at least. Tomorrow was a different story though. Tomorrow...no...I wouldn't go there. I focused on the calming breeze whirling slowly through the tall grasses and wildflowers of the meadow and closed my eyes, willing my tense body to relax, if only just for a moment. After all, it might be the last moment I would ever have to relax alone. It was warm out, but not as hot as it was earlier in the day when I had been dragging in the deer on the long trip back from the woods. I was ecstatic that I had managed to get such a prize and relieved that my sister would have plenty of food for at least the first week I was gone.

It was very unlikely I would be in a position to ensure that again, even though I had made Mr. Brooks promise me that all of the payments would go strait into Prim's hands, underaged or not, and no one else's. Maybe she was only fourteen, but I have faith that Prim can manage the money on her own, however much it ended up being. I just prayed to whatever was up there that it was enough to make the monumental sacrifice worth it.

"Are you scared?" Prim had asked after I had given her all the detailed instructions I could about how to take care of herself.

I shook her head and forced a smile for my sister's benefit. "No. I'll be fine. It you I want to make sure is taken care of."

Primrose gave an equally forced smile back to me, obviously trying hard not to cry, and almost failing several times. "What if he's mean to you?"

I shrugged. Mean I could handle. I wasn't even worried about mean. I might be signed to an abuser...it certainly wasn't unlikely. There were good reasons why these men couldn't find wives on their own, usually. But once the contract was signed I would make damned sure he understood that I had no intentions of being an easy victim. No...he might beat me...but I wouldn't go down without one hell of a fight. Hopefully, whoever it was would figure out quickly that it isn't worth it.

Now as the time to give up my freedom grew closer I felt less sure of myself. The bidding for my papers were probably going on that very moment. If only one person offered and the amount was next to nothing I still couldn't get out of it. Thankfully that scenario wasn't too likely. I was a healthy 17 year old virgin with hunting skills. Any of those factors individually would generally fetch a good sum. What I was more worried about was how old, repulsive, and awful this man could be. Would he be an old drunkard, like Haymitch, whom I saw buying liquor all the time at the Hob? Oh god...what if it _was_ Haymitch? I fought the sudden urge to gag up my small portion of deer meat. It could be. He did like to joke with me a lot and was always calling me sweetheart...

Without realizing it, I began to make my way back home to wait for the phone call from Mr. Brooks. At least then I would know if the sum was enough to keep my sister fed and get her through school. _If it wasn't_...I shook her head. I just couldn't go there. When I got home mother was up. That, in and of itself, was at least something.

"Mom?" I called, careful as I knew that saying anything could mess up whatever was going on in my mother's tuned out mind.

"Here it is." She pulled something white out of the trunk. "My old wedding dress. I wore this the day I married your father..." She said sadly, carefully handing me the puffy ankle length cotton gown. It wasn't anything special by any means, but it did have a little lace on the hem and that was unusual...a luxury item.

Before I had even fully taken the dress I could tell that whatever reason my mother had for temporarily coming back to earth for a few minutes wasn't going to last long. The older woman's eyes began to grow glassy again at just the mention of my father. "Did Mr. Brooks call yet?"

My mother blinked and nodded, clearly well on her way back inside the confines of her own mind.

"Did he say how much?" I rushed out, growing impatient and annoyed at my mother for not even managing to hold it together for a couple more moments. Prim plopped slowly down the stairs.

"I think she said he had told her one fifty." She answered instead as she came into the room.

I felt sick. One fifty? That wasn't going to be enough. It might last for one to two years...but not the four I needed it for. Prim came beside me and hugged my waist with her toothpick skinny arms. I could tell there was something else that she hadn't told me yet. Primrose finally let go and frowned...a rare expression for my usually happy little sister.

"He also said that the man insisted on having you tonight instead of tomorrow. You're supposed to be at the post in an hour and a half."

* * *

The dress I'm wearing catches on the untamed waist high grasses as I drudge through the field alone. It won't take much longer, I think with dread, as I slap at a mosquito intent on making a meal out of the bare flesh on my right arm. Finally, I just stop and give in to what I had been longing to do for the last hour. Reaching down to the hem of my dress I pull up the top layer and rip out the layers of itchy, ridiculous crinoline below, tossing the under garment behind me into the grass and moving forward without it. If I am going to be forced to marry a complete stranger that I didn't have any say about, he may as well at least understand my opinion about one thing from the beginning. I'm not in any rush to get to union ceremony and I'm positive that my lack of enthusiasm for the whole thing will be immediately apparent to groom when I do get there. I'll walk up to the union post alone, as is custom, with the heavy veils currently tucked into the sash of my dress over my face and wait for the groom. I reach the edge of the grass field and can see the union post not too far up ahead in the middle of the town square.

My mother, little sister, and the majority of the rest of the townspeople where all there, watching me approach. I could even see my mother trying to work out why my dress looks less puffy now than when she put it all on me an hour or so ago. She will not be happy when she works out that I left it in the field. Honestly though, why does anyone wear such ridiculous things? I stop and quickly place the veil on my head, pinning it to the top of my loose, naturally curly hair and flipping it over to hide my face properly. What the point of it is, I don't know. Unlike the bride, the groom knows exactly how he is coming to marry and the injustice of it made me mad every time I thought of it.

Who would my groom be? A farmer? A miner? I knew better than to hope for anything higher in class. My mother was probably pretty hard pressed in her decision. It's a small village with only about twelve hundred of us here, and that combined with the fact that I'm seam would have surely limited the amount of offers mama received for me. I wonder how much impact that fact had on mama's ability to choose. I'll probably end up with some old drunkard that likes the idea that I can be expected to kill and cook his dinner. The thought was all too realistic. I am only seventeen, but that does not give any guarantee what-so-ever about the age of my groom. He could be a forty year old man for all I know and I would have to sleep with him. The thought makes me feel sick. I realize after I recover from it that my feet have stopped moving and I am at the post where I will have to sign my life away in only another minute. I glance over at my mama who is smiling and she nods reassuringly at me. Is she trying to tell me that the groom is good or is she just smiling because I'm up here wearing the same pretty dress that she did when she was married my father?

Breathe. Breathe. It will be okay. Mama would not give me away to any bad man…would she? Please be kind, please be young, please be someone I know and like. I hear the sound of running hooves in the distance and the question of his means and transportation has been answered. Please be kind, please be kind.

I see a large tan quarter horse come in from the distance and a young man with the same color hair as the horse swing himself off. Surely, it isn't that boy who used to go to school only a grade ahead of myself? What was his name? I think desperately…Chris? Abbott? No…Pete? No…no…Peeta! Peeta! Yes, that was his name! Peeta Mellark. But he never even talked to me... I haven't seen him other than just walking around town since he graduated. I take another look just to make sure. Peeta walks from the horse over to the post with me and I am sure that is who it is. He looks just the same as the last time I saw him in the street buying produce and cloth. The medium tall, stocky boy with sandy blonde hair and baby blue eyes...the same boy who had thrown me the bread...

He is solemn as he approaches me and lifts the veil away from my face. At the moment, I am extremely confused. Why would a well-established, young, good looking merchant guy like Peeta choose me as his bride? I wasn't any beauty at barely five foot three and ninety five pounds. Men liked sturdy women that could help them work…not undersized seam girls. Was this some sort of joke? Surely not, I have to admit to myself as he hands the pen over to me after signing his name on the certificate. I scrawl out my name on the paper without really looking at it and then look back up at him in skepticism. No wonder why my mother looked so ecstatic. This is surely a much better match, at least in her mind, than she was hoping for. I, on the other hand, am not at all happy. What huge fault does this boy carry to allow for me to be his best option?

I am aware, once again that he is staring at me, scrutinizing my face, when his expression turns from one of complete solemnity to show what I think is a hint of disappointment. Nevertheless, I feel him take hold of my hand and raise it up above both our heads to show all of the gathered villagers the sign of union. Despite never having a single conversation with this man since fifth grade I am now officially his wife. Without ever uttering a single word to me, he leads me away by that same hand that had just been raised seconds before and lifts me up onto his horse. For a second I expect him to mount to horse himself but instead he just takes her by the halter and clips on a lead rope, guiding both the horse and myself away from the crowds and back out into the grassy fields, though in a different direction than the one I came from. I sit atop the horse that he leads along for a clear fifteen minutes without him ever saying a word.


	2. Chapter 2

After the first few minutes, I begin to wonder whether he thinks that I am deaf…what else could explain this behavior? Disappointment, maybe? Still doesn't seem like a good enough explanation. I start to once again feel very frustrated with the whole situation. There is a million questions that I want to ask him. Why did he choose me? Did he know I can hear just fine? Will he expect me to hunt, or only to cook and clean? When can I see my sister? Will he expect me to consummate the marriage immediately? I vigorously hope he doesn't. Most men will give their brides at least a few hours to get to know them if they don't already. But some don't. I've heard stories of some men even taking their wives as soon as they get inside the door before the bride knows their profession or how old they are. At least I know the answer to both of those basic questions.

I search my mind for everything I can remember about this man…my husband. I have seen him in town selling his breads in the bakery his family owned before most of them died last year. His family's bakery is one of the busiest and most successful businesses in town. I've bought coarse bread from him in exchange for goat cheese my sister made…but it didn't require any actual conversation as my father had already arranged for the trade the day before. Honestly that was probably the biggest interaction that we've ever had. The only other thing I can remember is how all of the girls used to look at him all dewy eyed in school...and of course there was the time he saved me and my family's lives.

Why is he so quiet? We make it to his house at the edge of the merchant's quarter and I look at the pasture of horses and pens of sheep, goats, and pigs to the back of the house. A fat rooster lazily passes in front of the horse I am on and Peeta stops and patiently waits for the animal to walk by before continuing on to the house. I had expected he would take me to the bakery, but instead he led me to a medium sized wooden framed cottage I had never taken time to notice with the new bakery built close to the road in front and a small farm in the back. Its white paint looks fresh as if it had just received a new coat and it looks quite nice with its bright green front door and shutters. There is even a front porch. I smile, thinking how much I'm going to like sitting on that front porch in the evenings while the crickets are singing and then I realize that we have stopped. I glance at Peeta to find him watching me with a pleased expression on his face.

"I hope you like it." He says in a shy, almost boyish way. "I remembered your favorite color was green back in school, so I...uh, I painted the trim that way. It was dark blue before."

I immediately nod to answer him and smile. How did he know that I like green? He offers up a hand to help me down from the saddle and I take it, even though I was perfectly capable alone.

He slides his hands to my waist and takes me from the horse. I am expecting him to immediately put me down, but instead he keeps me to his chest and carries me up the three steps going to the porch and through the front door before putting me back down.

So nice, I think. He's a handsome man with a good, strong build, a good profession, a nice house, and even a nice demeanor. What on earth is he thinking to marry a seam girl like me? To pay to marry even. I watch him take off his neck tie and put it away in a nearby closet. He then turns to me and carefully removes the pin holding the veil in place in my hair. Is he going to take me now? I hope not…but then part of me wants to just get it over with. I've always heard it's painful.

"What are you thinking?" I ask him, surprised to hear my voice come out much harsher than I had intended.

His boots fall heavy on the wooden floorboards beneath our feet and I feel nervous more than anything. Nervous and confused. I run my fingers through the strands of hair near my neck. Neither my dress nor my hair covers up the scars at my neck and collarbone. I suddenly feel the urge to bring my hair forward to cover it, but what's the point? Why hide what he's going to see anyway? I could feel his eyes on me, as if burning into my skin, and I shuddered to think how disgusted he must be. The scars aren't new. They've been there for almost two years since I had gotten attacked by the wild dog while I was out hunting. Gale had managed to kill it before it killed me, but not before it managed to inflict some pretty serious damage. Now I have scars from its claw and bite marks ranging from my neck to my breasts. Peeta must have seen the ones at my neck before.

"Would you like a tour?" He asks only a little less shyly than before.

I nod, relieved at his nervousness. I was not a nervous person in general, so I am glad that I'm not the only one feeling like that. He motions his arm to indicate that I am to walk forward into the next room. It's a kitchen. It isn't anything fancy, but it is nicer than the kitchen my parents had with its painted cabinets and bright windows. I watch as he goes to the sink and turns the faucet, filling a glass cup and handing it to me. He pours a second for himself, but only puts it down on the butcher block as I drink all of mine down quickly. I hadn't realized how thirsty I had been from all that walking until I had taken a sip.

"Woah, how long did you have to walk to get to that post?" He asks jokingly with a smile, taking my glass and refilling it before handing it back to me.

I glared at him and asked "How did you know my favorite color was green in school? We didn't have many of the same classes."

"Oh, uh… your mom brought by your bag one day when you had left it, I guess, and everything fell out. I helped her pick it up because she was pregnant and I noticed all your stuff was green."

My mom…

"Oh, well, thanks for helping her then." I reply lamely.

"I'm sorry that your father couldn't be here to see you today." He says without meeting my eyes and I try not to be upset.

"Can I see the rest of the house?" I ask to change the subject before I have a chance to get upset. I'm generally a pretty tough girl, but my father was the one subject that could easily get me to tear up.

He nods and leads me up a steep wooden staircase to a narrow hallway. I see that there are four open doors. The first one on the right is an empty room with absolutely nothing in it except for a large pretty window shaped like a half moon, an easel, and several canvases hanging about the walls with all sorts of beautiful scenes on them. I want to go in and examine them closer, but Peeta continues on walking as if the room weren't even there. The second on the right is a bathroom. The two on the left are both furnished bedrooms; one is slightly bigger than the other.

"This one's the uh…my bedroom." He points out as he walks into it. I begin to feel the blood draining from my face again. I hardly know this boy! He seems very nice…but I never even wanted to get married…and now I'm forcibly married to an almost complete stranger that I had no say in.

"Can I see the animals?" I quickly ask, hoping to get out of the room before he got any ideas.

"Sure. But let's get you out of that dress first. It'll get ruined in the barn and then what will our daughter wear on her union day?"

As he comes around and begins to unbutton the back of my dress without my permission I know that I'm visibly shaking. That bastard. There is nothing I can do about it. If I refuse him he can have me publicly whipped. I stand perfectly still. I feel his hand run up my exposed back where the dress opened and I begin to feel a little sick. I'm hoping that he gets it over with quickly when I realize the hand wasn't touching me anymore. When I dare to look back up from the floor to see what's going on I see that Peeta was across the room digging through the closet.

"I'm sorry I haven't hung up all of your clothes your sister brought yet. I had just gotten started on it this afternoon when one of my cows had a calf. Will this one do?"

He holds up my oldest work dress and I nod, too relieved to think to find a different dress myself. I don't move and, after a moment, he brings the garment over to me and then goes to sit on the side of the bed facing the wall. I suppose he expects me to change here with him in the room then…but at least he doesn't seem to be looking. I change as quickly as I can, facing him so that I know if he turns around. He doesn't. Damn am I relieved. I walk over and tap him on the shoulder to let him know I'm decent.

The little remainder of the day passes quickly. After I had thoroughly looked over the barn and been introduced to all of the animals, it was time for dinner. As was custom, this had already been prepared for us by his parents so that we wouldn't be bothered by having to cook on the wedding night. It consisted of vegetables and rolls and a side of chicken. It all probably tasted wonderful, but just seemed to stick to my mouth like peanut butter. All I could think of was what he was planning on doing with me and what little my mother and sister had on our table tonight while I was presented with all of this. Even though I kept my eyes on my food I could feel his eyes staring at me from across the table.

"What are you planning on doing with me?" I finally demanded, unable to swallow anything, my voice firm as I looked up at him for the first time since we had sat down.

I was met with a look of bewilderment. Instantly he turned about five shades redder than I had seen him get since we were children. "What-what do you mean?"

"You know damned well what I mean. Why did you pay for my papers? I know Delly Cartwright wanted to marry you, along with about half of the other girls from town." I spear a piece of steamed broccoli with my fork a little harder than was probably necessary and do my best to contain the slow anger that had been building over the situation ever since I had figured out what my only choice was. Peeta Mellark had no reason to had to bid for anyone's papers. He was perfectly capable of finding a wife on his own. The girls in school used to be all over him with his money and outgoing personality and good looks. I had to be one of the most unlikely girls for him to pick out of the entire district. The whole thing smelled like a rat to me.

"Delly Cartwright?" He smiled and laughed a little. "Delly was like a sibling to me growing up. We were always close, but I don't think of her like that. And the other girls from school...is it really such a strange idea that I might just prefer you?"

"Yes." I answer firmly. He wasn't going to get off the hook until I had gotten to the bottom of this. "You don't know me. I'm a seam girl. We haven't even had a real conversation since we were kids and now what? You suddenly get the urge to marry me?"

At this his blush fades and his lighthearted smile drops into a serious expression that almost could pass for angry but, once I really inspected him, I decided he looked more dissapointed than anything. "You take better care of your little sister than most parents do of their own babies. Your favorite color is forest green. You regularly break the law to go sneak off into the forest to hunt. You have a beautiful singing voice and a terrible temper. You know every word of the valley song by heart. You have perfect aim with a bow and arrow. You don't take any crap off of anyone. You hate kremlin...even if it's for a wedding dress. You hate the idea of being married off like this but know you had to if you didn't want your sister to starve. And, apparently, you also hate me. And I didn't just suddenly get the urge to marry you, I just couldn't stand the thought of some old drunken bastard taking advantage of your situation and doing God knows what to you and you putting up with it for your sister's sake."

By the end of all of this the color had drained out of my face and my rage was gone...but now I didn't know what to do. He did this to save me? No one would go so far as to marry someone just because they were worried that acquaintance might get less than a desirable match. Still, he had obviously been paying a lot of attention to me over the years to gather all of that information. I hadn't sung the valley song in years.

"And I do prefer you. You have more character than any of those other girls in school, most of which were hanging on me for one reason and one reason only- the bakery. I wanted more out of a wife than some shallow...I just...never mind. I don't expect anything out of you. You can relax. I'm not going to jump you or anything. I have too much respect for you for that."

I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows at this even as the feeling of relief flooded my body at the knowledge that he didn't intend on forcing himself on me. "You don't want to consummate?" I felt mortified at just saying the words.

"I want you to love me. I don't want to force you under me while I watch you cry. I could never do that. If you don't ever develop any feelings for me than at least I'll know that no one else is forcing you." He carefully watched my expressions as he spoke. I wondered how easy it must be for him to read the shock written all over my face. I had never heard of any man buying a girl's papers without expecting physical intimacy. I didn't know what to say.

"You must want something out of this...what do you want then?" I ask hesitantly, knowing my cooking and cleaning skills were awful.

At this question his familiar laid back smile finally began to re-emerge and I watched as he leaned back into his seat. "Well, I am quite fond of squirrel."


	3. Chapter 3

Despite myself, I couldn't wipe the smirk off my face from that last comment quickly enough to hide it from Peeta. I ask him what he wants of me and he tells me he wants squirrels of all things!

"What?" He asks through his signature smile from across the table. It clear that he is just messing with me at this point. Still, not many people can lighten my mood like that once I'm that angry about something.

I shake my head a continue to try, very unsuccessfully, to hold back my smile as I pick up a little more food on my fork. The food really does taste great.

"The food's good." I manage. "Did your dad make it?" I hazarded.

He nodded. "Yeah. This weekend he wants have us over with your family. He wants to make us a wedding cake and all that." As I watched him, I noticed he seemed a little shy as he explained. I watched as he took another bite of his chicken and realized that his plate was still just as full as mine. "I hope you don't mind, but I told him I thought it would be better to put it off for a few days, you know...just until you've have a little more time to get used to-"

"being your wife?" I ask, a mixture of hostility and shyness permeating my voice even though I didn't want it to.

The silence that followed was almost as awkward as the silence on the ride from the union post. Still, we both finished our dinners and then I got up to clear the table. I turned the tap on the sink and thought of the luxury of having it to wash with without having to pump it or take it from the well. That part of living here...the running water, the front porch, the abundant food...I had to admit was going to be nice. I wasn't used to any of it. Peeta immediately got up as well to help me clean the dishes and, as he washed, I dried them. Then he showed me which cabinets everything went into. Then there was more awkward silence. It had to be getting time to go to bed here soon...what time was it anyway? I didn't see any clock anywhere to help, so I guessed around eight by the sunset outside the window. Then I remembered the porch I had seen earlier and the two inviting rocking chairs out on it.

"I'm gonna go sit on the porch." I stated, halfway testing my bounds of freedom and halfway knowing he wouldn't mind.

He nodded and I was out the door. With the screen closed behind me I found I could finally relax. The air out here wasn't nearly so suffocating as inside. I sat down in the wooden rocking chair to the right and looked out at the chickens picking at the ground. They would need to be put up before we could go to bed. _ We. _Before that word had always meant Prim and I. She was the only one I had ever shared a bed with. She had always been my mission in life. She was like my own baby. What would she do tonight without me when her feet got cold? Would she climb in bed with mom and tuck her little feet under her? Would she freeze? Suddenly I felt guilty for somehow not managing to get her an extra blanket before leaving.

Just as I was trying to work through all of these thoughts, I heard the screen door creak open and a coal oil lamp spill light onto the porch. Without saying a word, Peeta put the lamp on the hook hanging from the porch ceiling and went inside again only to return a moment later with two glasses of milk and a plate full of frosted cookies. I knew I was probably looking at him like he had a third eye, but I wasn't used to being offered an entire glass of milk so casually. Milk came dearly and I could count on one hand the number of times I had eaten cookies before in my life.

Still, I immediately took advantage of it and nothing went to waste. "Thanks." I managed in between chewing my second cookie. Besides, if he thought I was being a pig it was really more his problem than mine. He was the one to pay for me. If I became a fat old bakers wife, that would just be his issue to deal with.

"I'm glad you like them. You know we have plenty to eat here, so you can always take whatever you want."

"Aren't you worried all this stuff is going to make me fat?" I ask casually as I continued to chew.

He laughed a little. "No. In fact I hope you put on a few pounds, I don't like seeing you skin and bone." I knew he didn't mean anything by it, but I couldn't help getting offended. It was like he was saying I wasn't doing good enough for myself and my family. I did the best I could. I hunted and brought in meat that half the town bought on a regular basis. Prim sold cheese from her old nanny goat. We hadn't starved yet...but then, I suppose there was a reason I was in this situation...and, anyways, wasn't just me being here like an admission that I couldn't do it all? Shame over the whole situation washed over me again. I was too skinny, little duck was too skinny, my mother was definitely too skinny, and here I was basically prostituting myself just to feed them both for another year or two.

I hadn't even noticed that Peeta had gotten up to put the chickens away until I saw him doing it across the yard. He really wasn't a bad guy. I could have landed in a far worse situation than this today. Somehow though, the fact that Peeta was the one to buy my papers only made me feel worse. He had basically told me earlier that he had done it to save me and I didn't want his pity. I already owed him more than I could repay from the incident with the bread five years ago. I didn't want to be his charity case. This whole thing was supposed to be an equal and fair contract. The man gives my family enough money to live on and in return he got me to...to... I couldn't even finish the sentence in my mind. Okay...was I really guilting myself because Peeta didn't plan on taking advantage of me? I must be insane. But still...he had to have given up a lot to do this. He could have had anyone. Any girl from town would have happily agreed to marry him. I let out an involuntary sigh just as he climbs back up onto the porch and smiles at me for seemingly no reason at all. Could he really be this happy that I'm here?

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm going to turn in. I've got to get to the bakery to start work by five tomorrow."

I nod. "Do you want me to come help? I don't know much about baking, but I could wash dishes or something."

He shook his head. "I figured you would want to go see your family and assure them that you're still alive. Your sister made me promise about fifty times to be good to you when she was giving me your things earlier. I think she was worried."

"Okay." I follow him up the stairs, feeling more awkward with every step. I know he said he wasn't going to jump me...but if he didn't, wouldn't that make this charity on his part? When we reached the top I stood awkwardly in the hall behind him. He scratched his neck, looking a bit nervous as well. I feel torn between wanting to punch him in the face and run and kissing him as a thank you for the monumental sacrifice he has made. I honestly couldn't imagine anyone else being this much of a gentleman. He opens the door to the one of the bedrooms and walks in, leaving the door open and me out in the hallway. I stand awkwardly with no idea what to do. Should I follow him in? Should I ask to sleep in the other room? Should I offer myself in the way I know is expected of someone on their wedding night? I cringe a little at the thought, but how else can I hold up my end of the contract?

He is sitting on the side of the bed facing away from me in the room I'm still standing just outside of the bedroom as he pulls his shirt off nonchalantly and begins to undress right in front of me. I quickly avert my eyes (nudity is something I've never had a chance to grow comfortable with) but not before catching a glance at his naked back torso. His skin is perfect and so much unlike mine with its light creamy color and smooth, scar free surface. I listen to ruffling clothes as he finishes undressing for the night and gets under the covers.

I continue to stand awkwardly in the hall. Seconds pass that feel like hours. Even more awkwardness. Finally, I turn back to look at him again and see him shirtless as he sits in the bed, lower body under the covers, staring at me as if he can't figure out why I haven't joined him. Like this is normal. Like this isn't the most awkward moments of my entire life up to this point.

"You...uh...you're welcome to sleep in here with me if you want to. I won't force anything on you..." I remain perfectly still and try to remember how to breathe. He seems to sense how uncomfortable I am with this idea. "or you can have the other room. Whatever you're more comfortable-"

Before he even finishes the last bit of his sentence I am in the other room with the door closed and locked. Of course, its pitch dark in here since I ran in so quickly that I didn't think to ask for a lamp or candle. _Oh well_. I crawl into the bed, once I find it in the dark of the unfamiliar room, with my dress and socks on, only removing my shoes first. Then I spend the night staring at the whitewashed wooden ceiling...sleepless.


	4. Chapter 4

As I lay there that night, I stared up at the darkness, unable to see the ceiling and yet still imagining it was the one over Prim and I's room. I knew that Peeta Mellark, the sweet baker's son who had been kind enough to sign for me and not even insist on having my body for it, was only one room over. His bed, in fact, was right up against the other side of the same wall my headboard was positioned against. He was right there. If I listened closely enough I might be able to hear his breathing, except I couldn't. I felt awkward and intensely lonely...the kind of lonely that I only remember ever feeling before right after dad died and mom mentally checked out. It was cold in the room even though it wasn't close to winter. Shivering, I pulled the covers up over my shoulders.

He wasn't holding me captive here. Tomorrow, I told myself, I could go home to see Prim. First thing tomorrow, I could see my sister. He wasn't trying to control me or anything. I was free to come and go. I was free to sleep in whichever bedroom I chose. It just meant that I either had to get used to sleeping in here...alone in the dark and cold...or I had to start sleeping with Peeta. I was sure that, even now, I could probably get up if I chose and walk into the other room where he slept. I tried to picture myself doing that and what would happen...if I just got up and crept into bed with him. Would he want to have sex? Would he ignore me? Would he wrap me into his arms and hold me?

It was Peeta, after all. The boy who had given me the bread that day in the rain had chosen to take me as a wife. Just then, a really absurd thought hit me. Had he saved me that day to keep for himself? Had he really noticed me so much as he was alluding to over dinner? Was he asleep on the other side of the thin wall between our two wooden headboards or did he lay awake and wish for me to come to him? Would he come in here if I didn't go to him? No...I had locked the door...I was simply thinking crazy thoughts.

For the rest of my life my name would be Katniss Mellark. I would be Mrs. Mellark. I am Mrs. Mellark. The mental image of Peeta being slapped hard across the face and of a fat woman with no joy ever showing in any of her features invaded my mind at the name. I could not imagine myself as a baker's wife...fat and with Peeta. I couldn't imagine ever having enough to eat on such a regular basis as to even have the option of becoming fat. Yet Peeta said I would and that he wanted me to put on some weight. I chuckled a little a loud at the thought. He was definitely a strange one.

Yet I couldn't help feeling as though I should be be relieved.

I should be relieved, but I wasn't. I wasn't relieved because I had gone into this sure of two things:

One- it would be awful.

Two- I would refuse to care or give into it.

Peeta didn't fit that situation. He wasn't awful, but I couldn't care about him or love him...not under the circumstances. Not ever. I couldn't be in love with him. I knew what love meant. Love meant intimacy and, unless you're very rich and can afford protection, intimacy meant children. Children to take care of like Prim. How could I produce more Prims in the world when I can't even take care of the one I have already?

I felt so angry at the situation. Why couldn't I have been married to some mean old bastard that I could hate and didn't owe anything to? It would have been so much easier! Peeta needed so much more...expected so much more...deserved so much more. Hadn't he said straight out that he wanted me to love him? Why did he have to ask for the one thing I couldn't give him? Why did he have to make this whole thing so much harder? By giving me this freedom, but telling me that he didn't want to hurt me, he had sentenced me to be the one to decide what to do. In a way, I almost wished that he had just forced me already, even. At least then it would be over.

_Breathe, Katniss. Breathe. _

Slowly, painfully slowly, the dim light from outside the window began to illuminate the room. Not much, but as soon as there was enough to even see shadows and outlines I was up. Without bothering to make the bed, I quietly walked to the bathroom and splashed some water to my face. After brushing my teeth and braiding my hair, I left in my old dress. My other clothes were in the room with Peeta and I certainly wasn't going in there to retrieve them.

Silently, I slipped out of the house and into the familiar and comforting forest. Only when I reached a half mile outside the fence did I feel like I could really breathe again. And then I sat down on the rock where Gale and I always met up and I cried.

* * *

When I finally drug myself out of the forest and through the district boundary fence my bag was so heavy with game that I could barely carry it. By the time I was approaching Peeta's house I was practically having to drag the thing. I didn't want to wake him this early...it still couldn't be past seven thirty in the morning, so I sat on the porch and began to work through picking and sorting through the game. Four squirrels, six rabbits, two geese, and an accidental wild dog. Prim and mom would still have plenty of meat from the deer that I had shot the day before and I had not figured on being able to hunt again nearly this soon. Instead, I separated out the squirrels for Peeta's father, whom I knew liked them. Now that I was married to his son, I couldn't really ask him to pay for them anymore, but I didn't mind so much. He had always been uncharacteristically nice to me for a merchant. I also pulled out the thinner of the two geese for Peeta and I's dinner tonight. It was somewhat pathetic really, but I wanted to show him that I wasn't entirely useless as a wife. Quickly, I got to work on plucking it bare and removing its inedible innards before sneaking back inside as quietly as I could and tossing it on the kitchen counter. The house was quiet inside. He must have still been asleep. The most logical thing to do next was go to the bakery to give Mr. Mellark the squirrels, but I didn't want him to see me with the full game bag and tell Peeta. Whatever money I could make from the rest needed to be saved for Prim.

"Katniss!" Greasey Sae greeted as I approached her stall enthusiastically. "I wasn't expecting to see you here anymore, what with you landing the baker's son and all! Oh, and weren't you shocked yesterday. I don't think I'll ever forget your face when you saw that boy!" She laughed and gave me a big, warm hug. I could feel my face begin to flush with embarrassment. Had it been that obvious?

"You were there?" I asked, still surprised.

She nodded, getting back to stirring whatever soupy concoction she had today in her giant kettle. She quickly ladled me out a bowl. "On the house today." She continued to smile, obviously much happier for me than I was for myself.

"Thanks." I managed as I plumped down on the stool and began to eat. I hadn't realized it before I had the mystery soup in front of me, but I was actually quite hungry. It didn't take me long to finish the bowl.

I reached into my bag and took out the dead dog I had shot on accident. It was at least fifty pounds. Sae took it quietly and, without comment, put it back behind her wooden counter to butcher later, handing me the appropriate amount of coins. I pushed about half of them back to her though and she thanked me silently with her eyes. Usually, I could never afford to do this, but I knew her family was hurting just like mine had been and I knew we at least had enough for the time being. It felt nice to actually be in the position to help someone else out for once. We didn't talk anymore though. I didn't know what to say to explain what was happening. I still felt very confused on that subject myself. After I bid goodbye to Greasy Sae and traded the rabbits and leftover goose, I headed to the bakery to give Mr. Mellark the squirrels I had killed.

I knew that Peeta worked there now. I also knew that bakers kept early hours, so I have no idea why I was surprised to see Peeta standing there at the counter when I walked in. His face lit up instantly upon seeing me come in and a gnawing sense of guilt overtook me even though I didn't know what it was for.

"Good morning, Mrs. Mellark!" He greeted happily, with a sweet smile that he couldn't seem to contain. I couldn't help but wonder what made him so happy to see me after the way I had treated him last night.

"Morning" I nodded to him as I walked up with my bag from the back door. He met me halfway and immediately took the bag from my shoulders, giving me a quick hug. The action surprised me and it took a moment to will my body to relax and then remember to hug him back.

"I um...I just came to see if your dad wanted some squirrels..." I stuttered, feeling awkward that I had snuck off so early to hunt.

Peeta beamed at me. "Dad!" He called, keeping his arm at my waist and still standing by close to my side.

Mr. Mellark came out a moment later, rubbing flour from his hands to his white apron as he moved. As soon as the kind, older man spotted me an instant smile almost identical to Peeta's overtook his face.

"Ah, it's my new daughter-in-law!" He continued to smile as he reached forward to give me a hug, albeit one of a clearly different type than Peeta just had. "How has my son been treating you?"

I felt my cheeks begin to blush harder. Did he know what happened, or didn't happen, between us last night? Was he actually okay that his son had paid for me? Did he approve of this? "Very nicely sir." Was all I ended up managing. Reaching back down to my near empty game bag, I retrieved the four squirrels I saved for the man...my new father-in-law. Silently, I sat them on the counter. He looked from the squirrels to me to Peeta and then laughed and patted me on the back.

"I think it is customary for me to give you a wedding gift, not the other way around." He managed through a chuckle.

I smiled back at him. "Just trying to make myself useful." I replied, feeling better about the situation. If Mr. Mellark had any problems with me marrying his son, he sure wasn't letting on about them now. Feeling a little emboldened and devilish I added, "besides, Peeta said he expected squirrels."

The remark obviously caught Peeta off guard, but he still smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, taking a little bit more liberty in his new rights to touch me than I was completely comfortable with yet. It took me a few moments, but before long I found myself able to relax under his touch despite the bizarreness of the whole situation. Peeta and his father were both good, kind, gentle men and I knew that he only had good intentions for me after everything he let me get away with last night.

"Do you want me to fry these up for a nice family dinner tonight or do you two want a little more time with each other alone?" Peeta's father questioned, looking more at me for the answer than to Peeta. I felt yet another blush overcome my cheeks at what he was probably meaning by saying "alone".

"Thanks dad," Peeta broke in to answer before I could come up with anything to say "but I'm still feeling a little bit selfish with Katniss's time right now. Is Saturday night still good to have you and her family over?"

"Of course, son" I watched as he slapped Peeta on the back a couple of times in a friendly sort of way before going to the counter and taking out a fresh raisin-nut loaf and packaging it up. "Katniss, will you take this to your mother, please? Tell her I said thank you again for allowing you to become part of our family. I am so happy to have you as a daughter and want you to know that, from now on, I consider Primrose an adopted child of mine as well. Whenever she's ready for a job I expect to see her here. The bakery is as much you and Primrose's now as it is me and Peeta's. After all, one day it will all go to you two anyway." He handed me the bundled up bread and I was at a loss.

He was going to allow Primrose to join in their family's business. She would be guaranteed a merchant job. For a moment I just stood there...literally speechless at the incredible kindness the two men standing with me had shown for no particular reason at all, despite all social laws and reason.

"Umm...Thank...thank you, sir." I finally managed to sputter out. All of my worries over Prim's future, in one single simple gesture...gone. Peeta stood there, also looking a bit surprised at his father, but beaming. Were these people always this happy, I wondered? Didn't all that smiling start to hurt their faces after a while?

I stayed there for a little while longer as the two men joked with each other and offered me various pastries that I continually declined. I was still full from Sae's soup and I felt bad for already taking so much from them. They were so unexplainably, unreasonably good. Then a thought hit me that I hadn't considered yet. Maybe I could love Peeta...one day...one day in the way he had said he wanted me to. He obviously cared for me...why I wasn't sure and certainly didn't understand. Yet, for some reason, he and his father had decided to remove my biggest and heaviest burden...the life of my sister. If they were actually willing to allow her a stake in their family business then Peeta had to have truly wanted me as a wife. People paid to marry girls from the lower class sometimes...but they never treated the union the same as people did love marriages. Usually, women in my position were there for two reasons, work and sex. We were used as a combination maid, cook, laborer, and sexual convenience. Peeta had already told me that he didn't expect me to work, liked cooking at home himself, and didn't expect me to sleep with him unless I wanted to. What was I here for then? Why did he go through all this trouble for me to do nothing back for him other than provide a little illegal game meat? What on earth could possibly be their motivations for allowing Prim into the thriving business?


	5. Chapter 5

I walked out of the bakery feeling sick. What the hell was going on here? _No one_ is that nice...they want something. They put me in Peeta's nice house...they give me milk and cookies and bread for my sister...they offer her a job...

I don't know how I ended up in the opposite side of town from where my house was...or, well, my family's house. I just kept sort of wandering. I felt like a child trying to figure out a math problem from two grades ahead of themselves...everything is there, but I still couldn't figure it out. It just didn't make sense. It was mid afternoon by the time I rounded the side of the fence near the woods again...really, it shouldn't have surprised me to run into Gale. But it did and I wasn't ready.

"Mrs. Mellark." He tipped his head and forced the words through his clenched teeth as his eyes settled on the bread I was absentmindedly carrying. Instantly, his posture became even more ridged- if that was even possible.

"Gale." I started, my voice weaker than I had wanted. I was no actress and Gale knew me better than probably anyone else except for maybe Prim...I couldn't fool him. He was like a brother to me. How was I to hide my shame? One one hand I was feeding my family. I had the bread right there as evidence...but on the other I had basically sold myself to do that. Gale hadn't had any idea...I had known better than to tell him beforehand. He would never have let me do it. I'm not sure how he would have stopped me, but I didn't put it past him. He never approved of the purchasing of poor seam girls' papers. He used to refer to them as prostitutes. I didn't know what that word even meant, but I knew that it couldn't be anything good. He began to push past me and walk away but I caught his arm at the last second. Immediately, he swung his body around and bore his eyes into my own.

"Please..." I started, but I couldn't get anything out before he interrupted me and pushed me roughly back into the tree trunk beside me.

"Was it worth it Catnip?" I felt his familiar warm hands at my shoulders and his grip became hard. "Was it worth letting that little merchant prick screw you just for that?" He pointed to the bread. He shook my whole body as he spoke so hard that the bark of the tree scraped a couple of large patches of skin off the back of my arms. I could clearly see the tears beginning to form in his eyes when he finally seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped shaking me, but didn't let me go.

"You are so much better than that! You...you- ugh! Why did you have to do it? Why?"

"Everyone has to eat..." I tried weakly, feeling every bit as shamed as his eyes accused me. Logically, I knew what I had done had been my only option. Logically, I knew that the bread I held was going to feed my sister and my mother and that now my sister would have a real shot at life. But, at that moment, there just wasn't any room for logic. Right there, with Gale's gray eyes piercing into mine, I didn't feel like a good sister. I felt only shame and the heat from his breath coming so close to my face.

"So you sold yourself to the baker! Well how was it then? Huh? I mean hell, I hope he got his money's worth! Did you like it when he took you, Katniss? Is the arrangement worth it to you now?" I felt my cheeks burn at the accusation and rage at him and at the situation. Peeta hadn't even touched me and even if he had, what I did with my own body was none of his business! As sure as I was that he would feel the punch I threw into his cheekbone the next day, I was even more sure that I would feel the smack on the back of my head I received when he pushed me back into the tree, harder this time, as he violently connected his lips to mine.

At first, to be honest, I only felt the smack to the back of the head and all the stars and near passing out wooziness that went with it. But then I felt him and the heat of his lips and the rough bite of his teeth against my own as he demanded entrance. I had no idea what I was doing, partially because of all the emotional confusion going through my mind at the moment and partially because I had never been kissed before. I gasped and he immediately took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and thrust his tongue onto my own. I pushed against him, trying to force his weight off me, but he refused to move other than to continue to kiss me and use his hands to hold onto my face, not roughly exactly, just possessively. It felt...it felt like...no. This isn't right. The image of Peeta's nervous smile last night flashed through my mind. I am a married woman. I forced myself to focus all my energy to shove him off and tried to catch my breath. He backed up a couple of steps and looked almost as bewildered as I felt. My lips could still feel where his had been. My dress had been disheveled and I knew that I must have looked strange to him as I tried to straighten myself a little.

I looked down to find that the bread Peeta had given me had been crumbled to bits in my fist and were scattered across the ground. I looked back up to Gale to find his eyes every bit as possessive and fierce as they had been before.

When I finally did get to my mother's small shack with the breadcrumbs I had a hard time explaining away my clumsiness. My mother seemed to be under the impression that Peeta had somehow roughed me up a little and that was why I was so disheveled and absentminded. For a moment, it was almost as though my old mother was back and she was concerned about me. Why she chose now to start becoming concerned instead of all the times we had nearly starved to death was beyond me. Still, there wasn't much she could do about it anyway with a cupboard containing only a small jar of dried sage and half a carcass of deer meat. So we all just sat down at the table and stared at each other in awkward silence until mother eventually excused herself to go back to her bed as usual and then I brushed and braided Prim's hair into her usual long pigtails.

I ended up getting back over to Peeta's house around five and when I came in he was busy butchering the meat I had left on the counter from my morning hunt. He looked content preparing the meat to cook until he saw me and his entire demeanor changed. Within seconds of taking one look at me the color drained out of his usually rosy cheeks and his smile disappeared.

"Katniss- what happened to you?" He asked gently, washing his hands in the sink and then walking over to where I still loomed just inside the doorway. He reached forward with his right hand and then paused for a moment, taking the time to look me in the eye and silently asking my permission for him to touch me before continuing. I softened my features as much as I could and allowed it. His fingers were warm and feather-like as he brushed them over my arms, turning them this way and that gently as he examined the mostly mild damage. Nothing was broken. Nothing needed stitches. I wasn't worried about it. Peeta obviously was, however. Despite the fact that I never answered his question, he led me over the the kitchen table, pulled a chair out for me, and walked over to the sink, wetting a clean washcloth and ringing it out.

"How was your day at the bakery?" I ask, lamely trying to break the tension that filled the room as he knelt down in front of me, his knees on the hard wooden floor. Everything he did was so gentle.

"Good." He nodded without taking his eyes off what he was doing as he carefully cleaned the scrapes with the warm cloth. "It was nice to see you there today. How was your visit at your mom's?"

"Awkward." I answered honestly.

He broke out into a smile and nodded. As I watched him, I couldn't help but smile too, though I had no idea what I was smiling about. It took so little to make him happy. He gently rubbed herbal ointment into the skinned areas with his fingertips. Even though it wasn't could out goosebumps spread across my skin at his touch. Would he always be this gentle with me? It felt nothing like the fire of Gale's rough touch which had felt as if it could consume me earlier. It felt like a warm rock that had been sitting in the sun on a cold day...a soothing warmth that spread over my skin like a blanket. I didn't know what to say to him so I didn't say anything. We both set to making dinner in a companionable silence. Afterwards, he went about feeding the chickens- this time with my help- and we sat on the porch for a while. He disappeared for a moment back into the house and then reemerged again with the lantern in one hand and a glass of milk with a cookie balanced on top of it in the other. He gave me a smile as he handed the milk and cookie to me before hanging up the lantern and settling down beside me to read a book on painting techniques.

Again, I couldn't help but stare at him as if he were crazy. "Peeta, you really don't need to do that." I tried to hand him the glass back. It was too much...all of this was too much. He was too much. "I don't expect milk and cookies every night."

I expected him to take them back or just smile, but instead I was met with a dead serious expression as he lowered the book to his lap and met my eyes. "You're underweight, Katniss. The milk will help if you go to bed with it on your stomach." I opened my mouth to protest, slightly offended at his childlike treatment of me. I was quite capable of taking care of myself. Before I could get a word out, the words from earlier echoed off his lips, his tone low and serious this time. "What happened to you, Katniss?"

I knew he was referring to the scrapes. I shrugged, unwilling to go there. If he knew...I couldn't go there. Defeated, I lowered my eyes from his to the floor and bit into the cookie.

That night was the second night in a row I didn't sleep.

_Author's note: Yes, I know I haven't updated in several weeks and that this chapter was short. Sorry... I could post my current schedule to explain why it has taken so long, but there isn't much point. I do intend on updating this again quickly and I do intend on finishing it and that is the bottom line anyway._


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's Note: This is more like a mini chapter than a regular one, but since it was so long since I updated before last chapter and I received so many encouraging reviews, I wanted to post a sort of bonus chapter this week. Thanks to everyone for the feedback- it always serves as great encouragement and reminders to keep posting up the story!_

I have no idea what time it was when I gave up on trying to sleep. This time, when I had gone to bed in the spare room I hadn't bothered to lock the door. What was the point to it? Peeta had already made it abundantly clear that he had no immediate plans of forcibly taking me if I didn't invite him and, really, even if he did, what would one old lock in that rickety door do? As dismaying as it was, the sound of rain on the rooftop angrily pounding into the shingles took away any plans for escaping into the forest at first light like I had done the day before. I turned about this way and that in the covers, bundling myself up like a caterpillar in a cocoon and still couldn't quite manage to get warm. Why I hadn't just broken the silence last night when I was in his room and just asked him for a blanket I still couldn't work out. I knew he would give it to me if I asked. I knew it was stupid to be cold when there was another option, but the cold of the room was the least of my worries.

Finally, I couldn't stand laying there anymore. As quietly as I could, I padded down the stairs to the kitchen for a drink of water. I opened the squeaky cabinet where Peeta neatly kept all the glasses and reached up to take the first one my fingers found hold of. Truthfully, I felt something like a ghost in the unfamiliar house, padding around barefoot in my nightgown. Nothing about the situation seemed real. Nothing about the last few days seemed real. I had never had trouble sleeping. I had never in my wildest dreams thought of being married to an upperclass merchant. I never thought Gale would kiss me that way. I held the glass under the sink and turned the tap. The water came out cold and clear...as best as I could tell in the dark room only slightly lit by the small amount of moonlight managing its way through the rainclouds and into the windows. It felt soothing to my throat.

Peeta was a odd man to allow this all to happen. I went outside and sat for a little while on the wooden rocker of the porch as the rain continued to pour, still sipping on my water. What would he think if he knew about Gale? What would he do? Would he blame me? Would he confront Gale? Would he annul the contract? We hadn't consummated it...he still could at any time, now that I thought of it. Was that what I wanted? Is that what Gale would want if he knew that I was untouched? Yes...judging by the things he did today I knew that is what he would what. I could get up right now and walk to him...I could climb straight into his bed before he knew the better and then tell him and then I knew without doubt exactly what he would do. Peeta would bow out wounded, but gracefully and probably without ever an unkind word to either one of us. Gale would take me right away, igniting my body into flame as if throwing a match to gasoline. He would consume me and it would be both painful and rapturous. But Gale had always been like my big brother and I couldn't get around the feeling that something would somehow be out of place with the two of us. We were so similar. We were both so filled with anger and fire and without anything to balance us, what could happen but for that to burn out? Gale isn't capable of supporting my family on top of his. Realistically and theoretically it could never work.

Slowly, I became curious. I knew what Gale would do if I went to him right that moment from my very spot...but did I know what my own husband would do if I went to him? Could I imagine what Peeta would do if I did what was certainly the more sane of those two options? No. I sat the glass down back into the sink as I ghosted back into the kitchen. I didn't know what he would do. Could I give myself to this man sleeping upstairs? Could I grow to love the kind merchant man who had married me to keep me out of harm?

Two days of unrest had left my mind fuzzy. I really needed to get some sleep somehow. I barely even felt the floor at my feet as I walked, wondering where it was that my feet planned to take me. I could focus on nothing, but the sound of the rain somehow began to feel calming rather than a reminder of my entrapment to the house. When I noticed where I was again it was at the outside of Peeta's door. Still in a fog that felt almost like a dream, I put my hand to the handle.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice questioned from behind me. Instantly, I snapped out of the strange dreamlike state and the world came flooding back to me.

"Jeez!" I jumped, unused to being snuck up on or caught unfocused. I was a hunter...things like this never happened to me. I rubbed my hand over my eyes. I really needed to get some actual sleep. "Peeta" I swung around to face him and tried to catch my breath.

His eyes glanced over me in my nightgown for a moment, but then settled on my face. "I'm sorry I scared you." He apologized gently, apprehensively reaching forward to touch my upper arm in a comforting motion. Before I could manage to get full control of myself I instantly recoiled at the pain from my arm at his touch. Maybe the scrapes were a little deeper than I had thought earlier.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Wow, I'm just...I'm really doing this all wrong." Slowly, as if coaxing a wild animal to come out of its hiding place, he reached forward again, this time to my cheek. I was too muddled and sleep deprived to think to stop making eye contact. As his soft skin came into contact with mine, it felt like a balm. His blue eyes searched mine, trying to answer some question that I was too out of it to be aware of. All I could think of in the moment was how intensely beautiful his eyes really were in that dim, moon filtered light. As he stepped closer I still couldn't bring myself to break the connection. God...whatever else I may find wrong later, the man in front of me had striking eyes.

"It's okay." I found myself whispering to him. Whatever was going on I didn't want to stop. His thumb moved in a quiet graceful gesture at my cheek. "I couldn't sleep." I finally admitted, feeling stupid. What business was that of his? Why should he care? A voice in the back of my mind, usually the one commanding me, spoke softly. I was too tired right now to reason with myself.

"Oh." He breathed. He finally broke our eye contact for a moment, glancing back at my room. "Do you need anything?"

Once again, I shook my head instead of asking him for an extra blanket. Fifty blankets wouldn't help get me to sleep tonight.

I heard him suck in a breath. His hand continued to stroke my cheek sweetly. "Can I- if I promised not to try anything, would...would you come lay down with me?" The nervous hope in his voice was plain even to me in my current state. Wasn't this exactly what I had been curious about before? Isn't this exactly what my feet had led my body in front of his door to do? I said nothing, but stared up at his eyes once again and, finding an odd peace there, nodded.

He wordlessly reached around me to open up the door and led me inside with his hand guiding me at the lower back to his bed. I crawled into to it from the side closest to the door and Peeta followed after me from the same direction. His pillows smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and a drowsy warmth spread across me as he took care lifting the covers up to my shoulder as I settled on my side that faced away from him. The other arm was too badly scraped up to be comfortable laying on. From my position in his bed I could look directly out the window to the moon appearing and disappearing through the clouds. I could feel his warm body settling in behind me, his chest at my back, his arm reaching over my side to hold me. My eyes fought to watch the moon riding in the sea of clouds for just another moment, but the warmth and comfort overtook me and before I knew what was happening I was asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke to the smell of fresh bread and to the steady rhythm of soft rain against the rooftop. It was light outside, but not as bright as daylight should be through all the thick storm clouds outside. I had no idea what time it was. Whatever time it was, it was late enough for Peeta to have been up a long time. His side of the bed was cold. Slowly, I stretched and walked over to the closet where all of my clothes still were, as I hadn't moved them to the guest closet yesterday. As I got dressed I made a mental note to be sure and do that today. I didn't want Peeta to get the wrong idea just because I ended up crawling into bed with him once. Already I was mentally kicking myself for doing that despite the fact that I had finally gotten some good rest as a result. Peeta had kept his word (at least to my knowledge) of keeping his hands to himself, but that didn't mean that I was comfortable enough to make the arrangement a nightly affair.

I kept telling myself that the only reason I had done it was because I obviously wasn't thinking straight. 48 hours without sleep would do it to anyone. Last night I was simply too tired to be held accountable for any of my actions...or thoughts. Especially about the ones of Gale. God, what was wrong with me? He and I had never been like that to one another...he had never even expressed those sort of feelings for me until yesterday. I don't know what he was hoping to accomplish doing what he had though. If Peeta knew...no...I couldn't think of that. Peeta would never, could never, know. Gale was just upset. He'd get over whatever was warping his head and things would go back to normal.

As I came down the narrow wooden stairs I did my best to rid the unwanted thoughts of Gale from my mind. Peeta was a good man. He deserved a wife who was at least faithful to him. As I landed silently on the last step I paused for a moment and took in the image of the man in the kitchen before me. A very shirtless man. A very shirtless man with very nice arm muscles and pale, perfect skin. I watched, perfectly silent and still for a long moment as he went about the kitchen, taking what looked and smelled to be cheesebuns out of the oven and flipping eggs and sausage over on the stove. I couldn't help but watch how his baby smooth skin, not at all like my own rough, scarred up olive skin, looked as his muscles underneath it moved. I realized that my mouth was hanging open a bit and closed it. This was my husband. Yes...he really could have had just about any girl he wanted. The reminder of exactly how much he had sacrificed for me hit home once again and the guilt about what happened with Gale...however little control I may have had over it, magnified a hundred times. Peeta Mellark was a good, strong, sweet man who really and honestly did deserve better than me. I had been so sure that this marriage would be awful, so sure that whomever that chose me intended me ill, that I hadn't even considered for a moment actually giving the poor man a chance.

Should I tell him about Gale? He could have Gale whipped if he knew...or he could annul the union. I gulped.

"Katniss!" He smiled, turning at the sound and taking notice of my inconspicuous presence for the first time. "Good morning." I tried to smile back at him as he sat the pan down in the sink and came over to me, and but was surprised to find that I already was.

"Morning." I answered back. He pulled a chair out that was obviously intended for me to sit in and I obliged as he retrieved the plate of cheese buns and then another halfway filled with sausage and halfway with scrambled eggs. I couldn't help but bug my eyes a little at all the food. I wasn't used to breakfast at all. Breakfast had been the first thing to go at my house after Dad died and food became hard to come by.

"You made so much." I found myself stating before I knew I had actually said it aloud. A deep blush instantly flooded to my cheeks. Good job, Katniss. He makes you breakfast and you criticize him. Obviously I'm great wife material- I thought to myself bitterly. Suffer through a shitty husband sure...fight with one fine...be a good wife to a deserving husband? Hell, let's not pretend that I ever considered preparing myself for that one.

He grinned indulgently as he placed two mugs of coffee on the table to finish the feast and sat down next to me. "I figured we could arrange the rest in a basket and take it over to your mom and sister as a surprise when the rain stops. I need to invite them to dinner tonight at dad's anyway."

"Oh, right. Sure." I fell over myself answering. He had done it on purpose? He had cooked, not only for us, but for my mother and sister as well? He intended to let me see them again today and go over to the seam with me? What the-

I taste the first bite of cheese bun and my eyes almost roll to the back of my head they are so wonderful. Like, best thing I have ever had in my mouth sort of wonderful. I unconsciously let out a small moan at the taste and look up to find Peeta looking like the cat who caught the canary. Instantly, I feel the blood rush to my cheeks once more.

"These are really good, Peeta." I say through chewing a full mouth's full. Very smooth Everdeen...or wait- I guess it isn't Everdeen anymore...

Peeta just grinned wider and sipped at his coffee as if the table full of food was just an everyday affair. Maybe with him it was. God, I hoped so. "Did you sleep okay with me?" He asked, almost shyly, though he must already know the answer considering how much later than him I slept.

"Yeah. Thanks for that. Last night I was really tired and I guess I wasn't myself." I answer, trying to let him know now that it doesn't mean it will be a nightly thing. As thin as my nightdress is, I should be ashamed he saw me at all...though he obviously doesn't have a problem with nudity, or at least partial nudity judging by how I've seen him shirtless now twice in as many days.

His expression visibly sobered. Good, I guess he got the message then. Unless he was going to make me I had no intentions of sleeping with this man. Sleeping in the same bed as a man who looked like that and who has admitted to wanting me would only lead to more. More as in sex and babies and children. I couldn't even get through bringing Prim all the way up without failing her and trading myself for help. I can't bring more babies into this kind of world with a failure like me as a mother. No.

We ate in silence for a while as I tried to come up with some safe topic to offer up to him. I've never been good at being personable...that's Prim's thing. She can make anyone love her. I didn't think anyone took notice of me other than maybe for my good aim when I sold them illegal meat. "So, you're off work today?" I ventured, stating the obvious and hoping that Peeta would take the opening, however lame it was, and figure out something to work with from it.

"Yeah, Dad said he could manage alone today. I hope he isn't getting too swamped. There really needs to be two people there, but he said he wanted us to have some real time alone together."

"Your dad is a very kind man. He's always been nice to me." I reply, taking a bite of sausage.

"Yeah, he is."

"Do you think one day you could teach me how to bake some things?" I ask hesitantly. I was a terrible cook and knew it. I brought home the food and Prim usually cooked it with whatever she had to work with. It was nothing to compare Peeta's cooking to, but it was still a lot better than I could do.

I watched as his whole face lit up at the question. "Sure."

I smile back easily, beginning to feel the foreign full feeling in my stomach that I have been getting the last couple days after eating so much again. Seriously, if he kept feeding me like this, I am going to end up plump. I chuckle a little at this though. Hadn't just last night he practically demand that I do everything I can to gain weight? Such a strange man, Peeta Mellark was.

"What?" He asked, smiling as well.

"Nothing. I was just thinking that you must intend for me to end up fat and spoiled."

"I'd love to see that. You nice and comfortable here. Maybe a few little kids running around someday? I could bring them to work like my dad did and teach them how to bake and you can teach them how to use a bow. They would be some pretty skillful adults when they grew up. At least they wouldn't ever go without."

I stared at my feet and felt my stomach drop. He wanted children. He wanted children that I carried and bore for him. Plural children. "I'd have to get Prim through school before I think I could..." My voice caught.

"What's wrong?" His arm was instantly at the back of my shoulder, rubbing comforting circles into my skin.

"Peeta, I can't do this." I had no idea what I was doing. I had to think of Prim...how was I to support her if he annulled this, but this just wasn't fair to him. He deserved so much better than this. I felt a traitorous tear form at my eye and looked up to see panic written all over Peeta's features.

"Why? Did I do something wrong?" His tone half begged. It broke my heart.

I vigorously shook my head. "I wasn't expecting for someone good...I thought, I thought some old drunkard or mean old...and I could just hate them and get through it for Prim...you're being so nice to me. I just can't do this to you. I'm not good wife material, Peeta. I wouldn't know how to be a loving wife if I tried. I don't even want kids. I just wanted to put food on the table, Prim was getting so thin and the winter is coming..." By this point I was sobbing in a very uncharacteristic manner. I was ashamed of my admission and embarrassed by crying and angry at myself for letting this all happen. Peeta got up from his chair and gathered me up in his arms, hugging me in a way that I'm sure was supposed to be comforting, but it only made me more upset. Why did he have to be so good?

"Katniss. Listen, it's okay. I've had a crush on you for years. I was stupid to think that I could just go and marry you and that you would fall in love with me too. It's okay. Please, don't apologize for doing this. It makes me feel like I can't take care of you right. I'm not going to make you do anything. And I'm really sorry if I didn't make it clear enough that I want to help you take care of Prim. You just have to be honest with me, okay? Just tell me what you what and I'll do my best. If you want out, then I'll understand. Just promise me that if we annul this you won't go sell your papers to some other random guy, please? I don't think I could live with myself knowing some mean old drunk is hurting you. I thought I could take care of you...but I don't want you to be unhappy."

I took a long moment to really look at him through my tears. His kind, beautiful blue eyes that are every bit as intriguing as they were in the dark last night. His crooked, self depreciating grin. His concerned, sincere expression. If a girl wasn't careful, she could lose her heart to a boy like that. If I wasn't careful...if I didn't stop looking at him that way...if he didn't quit constantly trying to help me...

"I don't want to be married to anyone else." I heard my voice respond quietly without my consent. If I wasn't careful...

His big blue eyes came a little closer. "Neither do I."

The room was getting hot and my breath became more and more ragged as a result...until he was so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek. His lips... so close..._no_. I stood up before I could change my mind and ran out the door as fast as my legs could take me.


	8. Chapter 8

It's still raining. I don't know where I'm running to. Within minutes, my dress is soaking wet and I cannot seem to think through a solid thought...or, well at least not any that make sense. I just had to get away. He was so...damn him! Why? Why did he have to want the one thing I cannot give him? Why does he have to want my soul instead of just my body? I could have sacrificed my body to anyone for Prim...but Peeta is just another animal entirely. He doesn't want to work me, he wants to take care of me. He doesn't want to own me...he wants be with me. He doesn't want to screw me, he wants to make love to me. He wants...he wants everything that I don't know how to give him. He's too soft. He's too tender. He's too sweet. He's too good. That's it. He's way too good for me.

But he's already said flat out that he didn't want anyone else.

And the more I think about it...the faster I run...

Neither do I.

The fence isn't on. Thank God, because I didn't even bother to check before I clumsily tore my way through...

The woods are my comfort. They are my real home. The woods are the one place in my world where everything makes sense. If I can just stay out here long enough, maybe I can figure out what the hell I'm doing to myself...and to Peeta. He deserves so much better and I can't kiss him...I can't do that unless I know I can give him what he wants...body and soul. It would be the most immoral thing I could do...it would be like killing a mocking jay. His big blue eyes were so deep and full of love, even though I have no idea how it got there and am more than a little confused as to why. His skin was so soft...his smooth, muscular body so warm and firm, his lips so sweet and inviting. If I started kissing those lips...somehow I knew there would be no turning around from that. If I kissed him I'd be a goner.

But I just couldn't afford to think like that. He'd change his mind once he really understood why I couldn't give him what he wants...when he finally understands how much I suck at being a sweet, loving wife. He deserves the kind of wife who would give him a dozen children. He deserves the type of wife who looks like Prim will when she's grown up...blonde, smooth skinned, and beautiful with a kind heart who never thought a bad thought of anyone. Someone as he pure as he is. I don't deserve that, I think as I finally reach Gale and I's rock and sit on it as the rain continued to batter my head. I laid down on my back, stretching my arms out over the rock and staring up at the hazy air above me as rain drops continued to assault my face. They fell down hard and thick, like Gale's kisses against the tree yesterday.

Should I tell Peeta? Should I apologize to Gale? Should I find Gale and hit him again, but harder? He had basically called me a whore. My best friend thought I was as low as a whore. I made a mental note to find Greasy Sae or someone who could explain to me exactly what that word meant. I might be innocent as far as sex goes, but I'm not stupid. I know it isn't anything good. Is he right?

It's colder today than it has been. Winter is coming quick this year. When the rain finally lets up a little and slows down to smaller, less angry drops against the rocks around me and my skin, I realize that I can see my own breath in the air as I exhale. Funny, I'm soaked through and I still don't feel particularly cold.

I get up and begin to walk around aimlessly some more. The green and brown of the woods feel comforting. Everything out here is normal. Out here I'm not Mrs. Mellark...I'm just Katniss. Out here there are no fences to cage me and no social bounds to which I am obliged to follow. There is no crinoline. There are no arranged marriages. There are no best friends attacking you and calling you whore.

My time out here allowed me to finally clear my head and, with the clearing of this came the realization that I really needed to talk to Gale. I needed to know why he did what he did to me yesterday. Was he only angry? Did he think of me as only a friend...of the little sister I had always assumed he had considered me? Or did he want me as something more and was genuinely upset that someone else had claimed the girl he had intended? He hadn't ever said a thing if the latter were true. He had never given me a single reason to think...

But then there was the inexcusable truth that happened yesterday.

I reached his house with every garment I had on soaked through to the bone. My old dress clung to me in a very unladylike manner. His mother answered the door, frowning my appearance and immediately retreating to the kitchen to get me some hot tea. I never got to drink any, because as soon as Gale answered his mother's call from the other room and saw me, he pushed me to the outside and slammed the door shut.

His lips were on mine before I could even utter his name. At the feel of his rough, hot lips, I put my hands at his chest and pushed as hard as I had the strength for. It was enough to get him to back up. He gasped in his breath, quickly becoming wet from the rain as well.

"Did you leave him?" He managed, still trying to catch his own breath through the rain and after what he did.

I shook my head in wonder. Had he just expected that I would? Had he expected that he could just force his kisses on me and that I would end it? Had he expected this to be romantic or something? It wasn't. It wasn't romantic at all. I was so confused...but I had no intentions of being married to one man while freely making out with another. Whatever it was that he thought in his mind to justify it, it was not justifiable to me. I was a lot of things...the number one of which was a bad wife, but I knew where I had to draw some sort of line in the sand.

"I just want to talk." I replied. At this, I could see the angered frustration begin to build once again in his face, but he begins to walk with me to the street and I hold back my questioning until we're out of earshot of his house.

_Why did you kiss me? Why are you so angry? Why can't things just be like how they used to be? Peeta is a good man...he won't forbid me from hanging out with you. Why didn't you ever tell me that you wanted something other than just friendship? You're my best friend...but I just don't see you that way...you're like my own brother._ All of these things I want to tell him. All of these things I want him to explain to me. But none of these things gets said. I never get a chance to.

A woman from across the street has seen us kissing. The woman hurls the first stone. I see the blood on Gale's cheek. I reach forward to touch it when I am hit on the back of my shoulder.

"What the-"

"Shit!" Gale hisses, grabbing me and dragging me back inside his house.

We don't say a word. His mother brings me the tea she had promised. I take a sip and savor the minty flavor she's manage to infuse, even though it had been months since either of us had last gathered any wild mint leaves. Gale covers the small gash on his cheek with his hand, propping his face on it as though he were only tired. I pull at my dress sleeve to cover whatever bruise was surely forming there. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

I take another long, slow sip of my tea. Gale and I stare at each other in grim realization. I was married. If people saw me doing something that was considered adultery...like kissing Gale, we could be punished. I had seen it happen several times throughout out my life. Usually it involved the adulterers beings taken to the square and publicly humiliated somehow. But it varied a lot just depending on how mad everyone was. Sometimes they were whipped or stoned. Sometimes it wasn't so severe. Sometimes everyone kept going until or or both were killed. Usually the wronged husband or wife were the ones to do the whipping. Was that going to happen to us? I sucked in a breath and tried to stay calm as Gale seemed almost in a trace in front of me. We sat, we sipped at the tea, we stared at each other. Neither of us says a word.

It takes about thirty minutes for the banging at the door to start. I have to be dreaming. This has to be a nightmare. This wasn't happening. When Gale finally answers them to prevent them from beating in the door, there is an entire mob of angry merchants and seam folks alike. As I get pulled out of the house, along with Gale, I notice it is mostly merchants. Someone saw Gale do what he did yesterday...I know because we are being yelled at over it. There is a vice like grip at my wrist from a peacekeeper. I am being hit from all directions and bumped into so much that it is impossible to say firmly on my feet. I try to keep up until I feel a hard kick to my lower right leg and hear the sickening snap that told me it was broken, then I just get drug along more than anything. I feel sick and end up throwing up onto the ground in front of me. I don't know what they've done with Gale. I don't see him again until we have been hauled all the way across town to the main square. It isn't more than a five minutes' walk to Peeta's house from here. I watched, horrified, as Gale is thrown onto the platform and tied to the whipping post. What are they planning on doing to him? I am so worried about this that I don't even notice where it is that they are leading me until I feel my hands become tied to the whipping post as well.

I look out to the shouting, rilled up crowd of people who I thought I knew to find Peeta in the back, pushing his way forward as quickly as he could through the unforgiving mass. He is saying something, but I cannot make it out through all of the angry shoutings and protests. Some of the people here are yelling for us to be let down. Some are yelling for a beating. Cray looks at me with hesitation in his glare. He buys my rabbits. Gale's too. If he beats us to death, where would he get his meat?

He begins to say something, perhaps naming whatever we are accused of to the mob, but all I can focus on is Peeta's lips, moving back and forth in a frantic manner directed at the Peacekeepers holding him back from climbing upon the platform. His expression is so angry. Will he whip me himself? Will he direct everyone to throw rocks? Cray pushes me down by the shoulder and I don't resist, crumbling down onto my knees and choosing to look at the wood of the platform beneath me rather than anything else. This is it. I've ruined everything. No one will ever want to marry Prim with an adulterer as her sister. No one will be there to provide for her and my mother once they've killed me. I fix my eyes on the gain of the wood planks and try to block out all of the yelling from the crowd. Anything is better than looking up at Peeta and see that anger on his normally sweet face like that again. My leg is killing me and I feel like retching again. I take a breath, holding it in subconsciously as I wait for the first blow. It never comes.

Finally, I let go of my breath and look up to find Peeta hovering over me, as if to shield me with his own body from the crowd. I feel him tug and untie the rope binding my hands. His face is a cross between fear and anger. He is saying something to me but I cannot hear him. Finally the rope falls away and Peeta wastes no time grabbing me up by the wrist and getting me to stand up with him. It is too painful to put any weight on my leg that had snapped, so I hold onto Peeta and balance mostly on the other one. I look out to the crowd to find that many of them look confused instead of angry and a few are even beginning to leave. Then I turn my head back to find Gale still tied to the post.

I hated that post. It was the same place I had walked to just days before for my union ceremony and now I was here with Gale to be whipped for breaking that union. Every time I was here something awful happened.

"My wife is innocent!" I hear him yell into the crowd. "I'll not have her whipped. I will not accuse anyone. No one here will be whipped today. Everyone should just go home!" How could he be so calm, I wonder. He couldn't know that I haven't cheated on him. Why is he saying I'm innocent?

I look up at him in wonder as he turns to Cray and mutters "you may as well let the bastard over there go as well. I can't punish him alone." He is still angry and I can clearly tell it.

Cray looks at him with probably the same dumbfounded expression that me, Gale, and most everyone in the crowd had. "There were two witnesses on two separate occasions of this. Anna Johnson saw them kissing today in front of his own house. Seth Brandon reported seeing them yesterday acting like they were at the slag heap against a tree. I know its difficult to hear, but think about it sir. There are always together. Who knows what all they have done when they were out there-" he gestured to the woods, rather than admit boldfaced that he knew we hunted out there. Another peacekeeper stepped forward.

"Mellark, you've a successful business. Why get involved with the lowly likes of her when she obviously doesn't appreciate any of it? I'll take you down to the courthouse. We will get the whole thing annulled today for you. If you'd rather punish her yourself, of course, then that's fine too. How do you want to proceed?"

For a long moment he says nothing, his face concentrated as he seemed to think it all through. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't defend myself, or deny what had happened, however little control over it I had at the time. Gale wasn't a bad man. He hadn't set out to hurt me or Peeta or anyone. Gale was just full of fire and because of that we were a lot a like. He couldn't contain his anger at the situation I had gotten in, so he had let out his feelings the only way he probably knew how. It hadn't been pretty. It hadn't been smart. But he had been my best friend before all of this.

Finally, Peeta turns again to look at me, taking in my expression as if he could read what was or wasn't true simply from my face. "Let her go, Mellark. The problem you have is with me." Simultaneously, we both whirl back around at Gale's voice. Peeta looked momentarily thrown, as if he had just remembered his presence at the post.

Peeta nodded, looking over to Cray, then back to Gale. He moved toward Gale and I tried not to fall as I lost my balance without him to support my weight. Carefully, I sat down on the platform as I stared to get really dizzy. Peeta made his way over to stand closely in front of Gale, but never said a word.

"She just married you to feed her sister, man. She isn't in love with you!" My best friend said softly to Peeta, calmly for him considering the situation. Somehow my stomach managed to drop even more and I found myself throwing up again. The rain drizzled down just barely by this point and I shivered for the first time all day.


	9. Chapter 9

Somehow, though I have no idea how, I manage to peel myself up from the platform floor and get to my feet and over to Gale and Peeta. I moved past Peeta and looked at my best friend. He was still tied to the post and was all fired up and in the mood for stupidity. "Gale" I choke out, softer than I had intended. Peeta turns his head away as if he can't stand to look at us. I slowly reach my hand up toward his face. "Shut up!" I slap him in the same place I had punched the day before. It was still purple and bruised and I hoped that meant this would hurt all the more.

At this Peeta swung back around in surprise. I continue to stare at Gale who looks back at me in shocked anger. This isn't a conversation I wanted to have in front of Peeta, much less the peacekeepers, but at this point I figured the man who had taken me as a wife had the right to hear it. "I came to your house to talk to you, but I guess that you need to be tied up to do it. You're my best friend. You can be mad at me for selling my papers all you want. You and probably everyone else here knows my reasons. You never said anything to me before attacking me yesterday. I didn't even know you thought of me like that...you've always been like a brother to me and I love you, but Peeta is my husband now. You can't just wait around until I get married and then push me into a tree to show me what you want."

Peeta's already stormy face suddenly became enraged. "He did what?"

Gale's features softened a little at my glare. He was ignoring Peeta. "You really want some merchant guy over me, Catnip? You really want to be stuck in some marriage just for money? I always wanted you, I just knew you weren't ready. I...didn't mean for this...look" he turns to Peeta. "Don't beat her! We kissed. That's all. She's not ruined for you or anything, but she'd be better off with me. I know her...you probably don't even know her-"

I never let him finish. My face became beat red and I wanted to scream. "Ruined Gale, really? Ruined?" I wanted to shout at the top of my lungs at both of them that I wasn't _ruined _for anyone. Other than Gale's kisses I was as pristine as Prim. I couldn't say that though. It would just humiliate Peeta more and further go to show the peacekeepers that our marriage isn't valid in their eyes. I turn once again to Peeta, who was silently staring back and forth from Gale to me. I tried to take a step backwards a little, momentarily forgetting my leg in the process and accidentally putting all my weight on it. Immediately I hiss out and fall over to the platform planks in an incredibly embarrassing way. The nausea returns again and I just barely manage not to throw up all over Peeta's shoes.

Peeta looks down to me and then over to the peacekeepers as if finally making a decision about something. "I'll give both of you free bread for a month if you'll keep the witnesses quiet." They both eagerly nod. It's a very generous bribe. He reaches down and hoists me up to his chest without ever looking at me in the face. "Whether I decide to annul this or not doesn't need to be decided right now. I'll be at your office in a couple days with my decision. Either way I don't want her publicly accused again. Do whatever you want with him." Without another word he turns and begins making his way off the platform with me in his arms the same way I had been when he had carried me into his house for the first time.

I watch over Peeta's shoulder as Cray halfheartedly brings the whip down over Gale's back a couple of times and then lets him off. They weren't stupid. They want to continue getting meat, so they don't do him any real damage. They probably did that much onlyto justify dragging us both up to the post. I wrap my arms around Peeta's neck to help him carry me, but he doesn't seem to be struggling to do it at all. I wonder how he got that strong until I remember seeing him throw a few fifty pound sacks of flour over his head before while unloading a shipment for the bakery. He was only fifteen or so then. Now he must be even stronger.

He carries me with his jaw clenched the few minutes it took to get back to his house. I wanted to say something. I wanted to apologize to him. I had never seen Peeta really angry before and it scared me, though not in the "oh shit he's gonna kill me kind of way". I wasn't afraid of what he might do to me when he got us home. I was worried that he would leave me. He was too good for me and I had already known that full and well, but this...he really deserved better than this.

"I'm sorry Peeta." I finally manage out just barely into his ear as he walks us up the steps to the front porch. I feel his muscles tighten even more somehow, but he doesn't respond at all. He just keeps walking. At this point I am sort of relieved that he has carried me back to his house rather than my mother's. That is something...right? When he reaches the guest room where I had been staying I briefly wonder what he is going to do with me. If he decides to claim me right then with the broken leg and all I wouldn't stop him. In fact, considering everything that happened I should probably offer. I mentally laugh at myself. I'm sure I look really appealing to him now covered in blood and vomit. My leg continues to throb and it only hurt worse once Peeta places me on the bed. Though it isn't ungentle, I could tell he was relieved to put some distance between us. Then, without a word or change of expression, he turns around and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

So, I have finally done it. I have finally managed to take the kindest man on earth and make him furious. I knew I was going to be a terrible wife for a nice man like that and it only took me two and a half days to prove it. I cover my eyes with my arms and try to breathe and stop thinking about it. My head pounded in the back from where someone had thrown something or hit it in the mob earlier. I looked down and took stock of myself. I was soaking wet, my arms and legs and probably face covered in bruises and my leg was resting in an unnatural angle. Great. I needed to clean myself up and dry off but the pain in my leg prevented me from moving, so I just laid there in misery for an undetermined amount of time.

The door opens and I look up with a hopeful expression, thinking Peeta will be there, but instead I see the last person on earth I expected- my mother.

"Mom?" I ask carefully, wondering if I'm hallucinating from the bump on my head.

She lets out a breath and walks in, coming over to me with her old medical bag that I haven't seen her use in years and sits it down on the bed next to me. Her expression reminds me of the one she used to get when I did something as a child that I wasn't supposed to and skinned my knee as a result. Clinical, removed, but with a bit of disappointment. Well, she can be disappointed all she wants. I wouldn't be in this situation if she was doing her job as a parent.

"Your husband says that you broke your leg. We'll need to get it set." She sighs as she gets to work removing my shoes and pushing up my dress to my thighs so she can see what she's doing. She doesn't ask me which leg, that is obvious, but I let out an unexpected yelp when I feel her touch it. She feels down the leg from the thigh to the ankle and then, without any warning, takes her hands and yanks it hard and quickly back into place. I scream and feel all the blood drain from my face at the pain. She holds up a bowl to the side of my head just as I begin to throw up again as if she knew that it had been coming. Maybe she did. After all, she used to be really good at this.

"I'm going to try to get some plaster and then I'll be back to make a cast. It's a bad break Katniss. You'll be out of commission for a couple months." I scowl at her, angry about having to wear a cast, but also amazed that Peeta went all the way to the seam to get her. How did he manage to get her snapped back into reality this well? I haven't seen her this normal in years.

She goes to get up from her position beside me, but then pauses and looks back to my face. "I'll be back." The statement puzzles me. Was she trying to reassure me that she wouldn't tune out again until I was fixed up? Was she...I notice her smile and can't help but smile at her back despite everything. Mom was a beautiful woman and when she smiled she looked just like an older version of Prim. In spite of how the last few years have aged her, I still feel a little twang of jealousy. I will never be beautiful like that. I am all dad just like Prim is all mom. When she comes back a while later Prim is with her, holding the medical bag as mom carries the plaster.

"Where did you get plaster?" I ask, knowing few people in the district would have use for it. Neither of them reply, but Prim puts the bag down and sits on the bed next to my head. Neither of them ask me how it happened. They probably already knew along with the rest of the town. I wish Prim wasn't there at all. A pain shoots through my chest at the thought of what people might say to Prim because of all this.

When mom is finally finished setting the cast that now covered everything from just under my knee down to my toes, she and Prim help me to sit up and begin cleaning all the smaller cuts and bumps. I have no idea how many there were until the two of them start to look for them. Prim shouldn't have to see me this way, but she doesn't seem to be fazed by it, somehow. Like my mother, she can flip a switch and become utterly professional as she fixes someone up. I smile and wonder if it is at all possible for her to become a healer. Mom could train her, if she mentally checked back in all the way for long enough.

I thank them and Prim promises to visit me soon since I can't go to her anymore for a little while. Then they leave and I am alone again. Eventually I drift off as I can't move and have nothing else to do. Peeta is gone. I don't know where, but I can't blame him for wanting to avoid me. He probably thinks Gale and I really have slept together. When I wake up it's dark outside and in the room, but I can hear people talking downstairs. One of the voices is my mother's. I can also hear Peeta's and Hazel Hawthorne. What on earth is Hazel here for? Eventually, the voices die out and I find myself drifting again. The room is cold as always and my hair is still a bit damp, so I try to maneuver myself underneath the covers even though my leg protests any movement. With no pain medication it is throbbing horribly, but I don't mind. I feel like I probably deserve it.

The next morning I wake up to the throbbing in my leg, cold chills on my skin, and the need to use the bathroom. The last time I had was yesterday morning before I ran out on Peeta and I know I am probably dehydrated. The room spins a little when I get up, but I manage to hop my way out of the room and across the hall as long as I grip the wall for support as I go. The house is quite other than the noise I make trying to get from point A to point B. I hop back out of the bathroom and then study the stairs going down into the kitchen. I really need to get something to drink soon, but honestly I'm not sure if I should tackle the stairs. Just as I am about to attempt the first one down I hear Peeta's loud steps coming towards me from downstairs somewhere. I watch silently as he gets about halfway up the stairs before he looks up and notices my presence for the first time.

"Peeta." I greet him lamely. My voice sounds hoarse and scratchy.

He nods to me and then looks me over. "Morning." He looks so tense...so different than when I had come down these stairs yesterday. "Need help?"

I give a small, shamed nod. I hate to ask, but I don't want to break my other leg either. Peeta take a few steps up closer and heaves me up to his chest again. Without a word, he carries me back to my room instead of the kitchen. "Stay here. Your mother said you shouldn't be moving around."

"I need some water." I admit, glancing up to meet his saddened eyes.

His face looks so defeated and tired. Did he sleep last night at all? "I'll get it. Then maybe we should talk."

"Okay." I agree without meeting his eyes.

He comes back up a moment later with a full glass of water in one hand and a bowl of soup in the other. I watch as he settles into the wooden chair in the corner across the small room from the bed after handing me both. His body is hunched over slightly with his arms supporting his upper body on his thighs.

I gulp down half of the water glass before attempting to speak. "I'm sorry about what happened out there." I offer, knowing that it isn't nearly enough.

He nods and finally looks at me in the eyes. "I just...I guess what I need to know is if you want to be with Gale. I can't have you here with me knowing that you're going to go off to be with him. I know I said I didn't expect anything-"

"No, Peeta, look. I need to make something clear right now. I am not having sex with Gale. I never have with anyone. Period." Will he believe me? I desperately try to will him to somehow.

He nods, the relief evident in his features. He sits up a little straighter. "But do you want to leave? Do you want to be with him?"

I shake my head. It was hard to explain this to Peeta. Gale was my best friend. I'm comfortable with him...or I was before all this happened. Peeta is so new...I still barely know him. It's hard to accuse someone you've been best friends with for years to a man you hardly know.

"Is he the one that gave you those scrapes the other day?" He asks, on the surface calmly, but I suspect that he isn't so placid underneath.

I nod. "He was angry. I didn't tell him about the papers. I guess he wanted more out of our relationship than I knew." I dip into the soup and immediately know that Peeta must have made it. Only he could make simple soup taste this good.

Peeta clenches his jaw. "You should have told me."

He's right. I should have. Somehow I manage a small grin and try to reassure him. I put down the bowl of heavenly soup and wait until he's looking me straight in the eyes. "I promise the next time anyone kisses me you'll be the first to know."


	10. Chapter 10

It's a huge relief when Peeta smiles back at me. "The first to know, huh?"

I nod, still grinning at him and pick up my soup again to eat another spoonful. Now that my nerves were beginning to calm down a little I was ravenous. Peeta chuckles at I devoured the bowl and then walks over to the side of the bed that was empty, plopping down beside me. The gesture at once makes me feel more relaxed and more nervous at the same time. On one hand, I am incredibly relieved that it looks like he may forgive me...or at least not annul the union. On the other hand, sitting in bed together in a pretty intimate act. Maybe he just figures that it isn't a big deal since I feel asleep in his bed the other night. Maybe it isn't a big deal at all anyway, but it feels like it is.

I turn as best as I can without disturbing my leg to face him and lean back into the headboard. I owe him more of an explanation still, I realize. Plus, talking about Gale will certainly remove this odd intimacy between us currently going on. "Gale can be a pain sometimes, but he isn't a bad guy. He and I are just a lot alike. Neither one of us is very good with words. I didn't know what to say to you, so I wanted to find out what was going through Gale's head to act like that. I hadn't seen him since the day before the ceremony and the next thing I know he is kissing me against a tree and saying that I whored myself out to you...whatever that means."

At this Peeta's grin dissolves back into a clutched-jaw expression. Clearly the word is as bad as I have suspected. "What does that mean, anyway?" I ask him earnestly. Maybe if he can understand how little I know about the vocabulary involved, he'll understand that I am not experienced.

"Nothing that you are. If he or anyone else calls you that again you should come get me."

"But what does it mean exactly?"

He audibly takes in a breath and looks down to his lap. "It's a word for women who have sex for money or who have sex with a lot of different men."

This time I look down at my lap, embarrassed and even more mad at Gale for suggesting that I was so cheap. But then, I did sell my papers and I didn't know that Peeta was going to come rescue me, so had he been that far off the mark? I was willing to sell myself to anyone if it meant Prim wouldn't starve to death. "Oh." Is all I can say. I pick at one of the many scabs that had formed on my arm until Peeta reaches over and stops me.

"Let it heal."

"It's already ruined. It will scar." I reply, referring more to the marriage than the scabs.

Peeta's fingers are warm and soft as they ghost over all the little nicks and bruises on my arms from Gale's incident a few days ago and yesterday's angry mob attack. I have no idea what he is doing, but I stay still and let him.

"The scars can't take away how beautiful you are, Katniss." Now I know he isn't just talking about the scars. My face is flushing red and it takes me a moment to gather up the courage to look up and meet his eyes.

"Are you going to send me back?" I finally ask, needing the answer. I have to know. If he's planning on annulling this I have to come up with some sort of plan for Prim. I was already out of options before I sold my papers and broke my leg, so if he's planning on getting rid of me and taking his money back, the plan will probably include panicking. I know that I must look terrified and probably pretty pitiful all around, but I force myself to hold his saddened gaze. I really do need to know.

"No Katniss. I'm not." Is his only response, his words heavy and purposeful.

Relief washes over me like a tidal wave and I can feel tears forming in my eyes. "Thank you." Is all I know to say in response.

After that moment something I couldn't put my finger on shifted in our relationship. He didn't seem as though he were simply waiting for me to run out the door any longer. Maybe that is because I physically can't, but it feels like more than that. It isn't just him. Despite that fact that I never wanted or expected to be happy in this marriage, I feel myself more relaxed around Peeta Mellark than I ever thought possible. He knew. He knew exactly who I am and how bad at being a wife I am and he is still willing to keep me anyway. If he didn't change his mind and throw me out over the huge public misunderstanding with Gale, he really must intend to keep me no matter what.

He nods and gives me a sad smile before picking up the now empty bowl of soup and walking out of the room with it, presumingly to return it to the kitchen, before coming back up a moment later. I remain where I am, head still throbbing from yesterday, but relieved to know where I stand with the man that took me for a wife just three days ago. For a few minutes I thought things were really starting to get better until my nausea came back full force and I can do nothing but vomit all over Peeta's nice guest sheets and my already ruined dress, just as Peeta returns. I do my best to clean up, but without anything to do it with it was pretty useless.

I don't even know what to say to him. I'm sick. I feel like crap. My leg is killing me. I am absolutely filthy. I have no right to complain about any of it. Yet I know he must be disgusted at the sight.

Somehow, he manages to act completely normal as he goes about quickly and efficiently removing the flat sheet that I have just gotten sick on as if it were nothing, without even a word to acknowledge it. Perhaps he was trying to avoid embarrassing me more, though I doubt it would be possible even if he set about a goal of trying.

"I'm sorry everyone came after you yesterday. I didn't know." An apology from him...great. The one thing that could make me feel more guilty.

"It wasn't your fault. I know how it looked." I offer, trying to take my share of the responsibility. I have seen people get a lot worse for a lot less than either Gale or I did yesterday, but it was it so surreal that I suppose I just never imagined something like that could happen to me. I was so shocked at Gale and confused at what was going on I never connected what it must have looked like to someone else. I wonder to, briefly, about who it was that saw us by the fence leading into the woods. It was still within the district that Gale...did what he did, but it was pretty well out of the way for most people. Then again, I can imagine a bright red elephant might have passed by when that whole situation was happening without ever getting either of our attention that day. He was livid and I was shocked and embarrassed and more than a little confused.

Peeta nods, knowing it was true firsthand. "You're still covered in mud and blood and vomit. Maybe I should run you a bath." The idea sounds glorious, but I have no doubts that whatever I had left in my stomach of Peeta's soup would be lost if I hopped across the floor again. I can barely hold myself back from throwing up again all over myself now.

"That sounds wonderful, but I don't think I can. I'm really nauseous and I don't think you're supposed to get casts wet." _  
_

Peeta nods at me with compassion filled eyes. "Hold on." I watch curiously as he disappears through the doorway and listen to the sink turn on in the bathroom across the hall. After a few moments Peeta reemerges with a small porcelain wash basin, soap, washcloth, and towel. I take in a sharp breath of air at the idea of what looks to be happening. Surely, he didn't intend to...

"You do need a bath." He says factually, no malice in his voice, just the flat statement. I am amazed my eyes haven't actually popped out of my head yet. Is Peeta seriously suggesting he bathe me? Umm...okay...don't panic. Maybe he'll just wash off around my clothes...

"I can do it out here if you want...or I can carry you over to the tub? You can just prop that leg up on the side."

Great. That wouldn't be awkward at all. Yeah, I can just prop my leg up giving you a nice view of everything. Sure, Peeta. I know I owe you but...

It's all I can do to try to close my mouth after it had gone slack at his question. "You want me to let you give me a bath?"

"Well, you have to do it sometime or another. You can't wait until your cast is off." He looks at me with just the right balance of shyness and kindness that makes my mouth suddenly go dry and forces me to look down onto my dirty legs. He's right. I am a mess. I probably smell ripe enough to make him just as nauseous as me. I fumble around in my mind for a reply, I'm not as smooth at words as Peeta. And while I was thinking, I realized that it didn't matter if it embarrassed me or not. I realized that Peeta would never do anything to me that was wrong, no matter how much I tested him and his patience. If the Gale incident didn't cause him to send me back, nothing would. He wouldn't take advantage of the situation. He was too good a man to do something like that.

I nod slowly without the nerve to actually meet his eyes. I still think it would be awkward in the bathtub...I don't really want the first time for him to see me naked to involve me splaying out like that. "Here is good." I gulp back another wave of nausea and try not to focus on the persistent pounding in my head for a moment until I know what he is going to do.

Already, he is beside me with the bowl resting on the nightstand and knees on the bed. Without any discussion on the matter, I lean forward as best as I can, the pain in in my ribs from where one of the rocks had hit making a loud protest all the while. My eyes were clenched closed, but I can feel Peeta's soft, warm fingers, working at the back of the old dress to let it fall open. When I feel the dress fall open and the cold air of the room hit the skin of my back I take in another sharp breath. It is a relief when I feel Peeta's hand there, rubbing the bare skin in comforting warm circles. Strange, I think, his hands don't feel awkward or bad, they feel...not like I expected. His other hand comes to my shoulder and begins to gently work my sleeve down one arm, then the other. He leaves the thin shift on that is underneath and for that I am grateful. I study his facial features as he works at removing my dress, climbing up fully onto the bed and resting on his knees as he reaches underneath me to lift up my backside with one hand and pulls at the dress with the other. He has a small pock mark on his forehead that I never noticed before. Other than that his skin is flawless. I wonder again how it was that he ended up with me. It doesn't seem like a tangible reality. I try not to think how disgusting I am as he finally has the dress fully removed and tosses it onto the floor at the foot of the bed.

I can tell he is trying hard to be professional about the whole thing. I also know that he is failing miserably.

Ever since the first moment his hand touches me I can't take my eyes off him. His hands rub the bar of soap onto the washcloth after he dips it into the bowl carefully. They ring out the warm excess water. They bring up the wash cloth to bathe my arm slowly, studiously, without missing an inch anywhere. I stay perfectly still and watch. After the first few moments Peeta rings out the cloth and dips it into the clean water again and continues methodically up and down my right arm.

I watch as his fingers slide up and down my skin with only the cloth as a barrier. I watch as my skin develops goosebumps everywhere he touches and then they spread all over the rest of my skin that he hasn't even touched yet. I watch silently as he goes from one area of my body to the next, always careful not to venture anywhere that my shift covers. Then, finally, finally he stops and meets my eyes.

It is, without question, the most erotic moment of my life.

His eyes hold more sincerity than I have ever seen in any other person. In this moment, I can't get around any logical thought except how good his hands felt a moment ago, how impossibly blue his eyes are, how beautiful the man I'm married to really is. A girl could lose her heart to a man like this...

He brings up a hand to push some stray hair off the side of my face from where my braid has come apart. The hair is gone, but his fingers stay to caress the side of my cheek. I lean into his hand a little before I even realize it. Warmth seems to radiate from his palm and slowly spread through the rest of me. I want...something, but I'm not sure what it is.

I wonder if he feels that way too.


	11. Chapter 11

"Does that feel okay?" He asks, his voice low and whisper-like.

I nod, perhaps a little too quickly. I'm still lost in his eyes and he is still looking back into mine. The air between us feels thick. Everything seems a little off kilter and I'm not at all sure that it's due to sickness. I feel his thumb gently rub back and forth across the skin of my cheek and wonder how it is that this beautiful, sweet man managed to stay single up until a few days ago. It seems like every girl in the district should be chasing him. Maybe they were like me and just never stopped long enough to really_ look_ at him. That really was the only explanation because I know that the second anyone really managed to look into those eyes they would be lost...I'm sure seems to be like that for me, at least.

A barely audible "yeah" escapes my throat. An answer to his question, maybe? He was asking me something...what was it again?

He grins a little at this and continues caressing my face. Whatever he asked, I must have given him the right answer. His eyes flicker from my own eyes down to my lips and back and I subconsciously hold my breath as he leans in just a little bit closer. He can't kiss me. Not like this. Not after I just threw up. It takes every bit of self control I have, but I manage to look away from his face and effectively break the spell that we both seemed to be under.

"I'll go switch out the water and then we'll wash your hair?" Peeta suggested.

I feel an immediate loss from where his hand had been seconds earlier and try to distract myself from whatever was happening with the two of us by slowly making my way off the bed while my stomach felt relatively stable and over to the chair at the other end of the small room. If I am going to be clean he will need to strip the fitted sheet as well and he can't do that with me on top of it. Peeta waltzes back in just after I deposit myself on the chair with a grunt.

"What are you doing?" He asks, looking perplexed as he sits the basin in the same place on the nightstand.

"I figured it would be easier for you to change the sheets if I wasn't on them."

"You shouldn't keep getting up. You're going to hurt yourself. Your mom told me to keep you still."

I glare at him in my usual fashion. He strips the bed down to the mattress and throws it all to the floor with my dress and the other sheet. Then the baker walks over and picks me up the same way he always did, as if I weighed no more than a baby bird, and walks me over to the bathroom.

"This will be easier if I use the sink." Is all the explanation that he gives me before sitting me down on the side of the tub and waiting for me to establish a good grip before running to the bedroom and back with the chair I had just been in, placing it in front of the sink, facing the doorway. I begin to attempt to stand up and make it the two feet or so over to the chair, but his arms are under and around me before I can get anywhere and the next thing I know he has me in place with my head leaning back and hair in the sink.

The shampoo he uses is the nicer, merchant kind that I still haven't gotten used to yet in my few days here. It is much creamer than what we used in the seam and has a softer, more luxurious feeling to it. Still, I am pretty sure that even if he had been using the cheap kind, this still would feel completely incomparable to any time I've ever washed my hair. When I wash it, I scour it for dirt and ticks and just scrub until I think it's clean enough to rinse out. Peeta's technique is nowhere close to that. I feel like I'm getting a head and neck massage instead of just my hair cleaned. He gently presses and rubs his fingers into my scalp and kneads the skin as though I am a piece of dough, occasionally running his fingers through the length to smooth out any tangles. It feels glorious. I close my eyes and concentrate on his hands at my skull and for a moment I forget about all the other pain throughout my body. For a moment, the sensation he is causing is so wonderful that I have to consciously hold back from moaning.

He does this for what seems like a long time, and yet I am horribly disappointed when it's over. If this is how he washes hair I should get him to wash mine every time it's dirty. I shake my head. What am I thinking? Peeta washing my hair is a one time thing because I'm sick and he probably just wants me to smell better. I begin to wonder if I really am as cheap as Gale said if I'm having such thoughts of Peeta that way. We might be married on paper, but I've barely even gotten to know the man, I chide myself...except that isn't true either. I do know him. I know him in every way that counts. I know that he is a kind, wonderful, sweet man that is much too good for me. I know that he is willing to forgive me when I'm not sure I would if our roles were swapped. I know that he is willing to give me everything he has without a single expectation of anything back that I don't want to freely give him. I know him, alright.

I smile involuntarily at him as I open my eyes and lean my head back up straight as he wrings out the water from the length of it and presses water out with a towel. After, he takes me back to the guest room once again, placing me gently back on the bare bed before going over to the closet and grabbing my clean night shift.

"D-do you need help changing or...or do you think you can finish cleaning yourself?" His stutter is adorable. Everything about him right now is nervous and uncharacteristically awkward.

I nod, not honestly sure, but having every intention of figuring it out for myself. If he could get me this worked up just washing my hair and cleaning my arms and legs I don't want to think of what might happen if I let him do the rest. Besides, he deserves better than having a naked girl in front of him if I can't even let him consummate things. I struggle, but ultimately manage to take off my shift and underthings. Washing myself off doesn't take long, considering Peeta had already done most of the work. I just have to clean all the places that were considered indecent. The washcloth scrubbing the remaining filth doesn't feel the same when I do it. Technically Peeta was only washing me, I think, so why did it feel so magnificent when it was him doing it? It sure doesn't now. _Huh._

I reach over to the clean shift and pull it on over my head and down to where it stops mid thigh. My other one is longer, but this one was older and bought before I had completely finished growing. I don't have any underwear to put on within my grasp. _Oh well. It won't much matter in here if I'm alone and not walking around the house. _

I call out to Peeta to let him know I'm done and he emerges from the other side of the door. The blue in his eyes grow a little darker and I can't help but wonder why until I realize how he is looking at me. My cheeks flood with color and I suddenly feel like a shy little girl, instead of the grown woman I am. I wish my shift covered more. I wish he didn't have to see all these ugly marks and bruises. My usually olive skin looks more like a bright collage of greens, blues, and purples than actual skin right now. When I look down at all of this, disgusted, I wonder how he can look at me at all until I look back up to see that the bruises probably aren't what Peeta is gazing at. His face isn't one of disgust or anger, but more like the look that Prim gets on the rare occasion I have been able to buy her treats. He looks just as Prim did as if in awe of the sweet before gobbling it down as if she were afraid someone would snatch it if she took too long. It would be comical if it wasn't my near naked body evoking it. Instead it's just an awkward mix between flattering, tense, and something else that I don't have a word for.

"Peeta?" I question, feeling more and more shy the longer he looks.

Instantly, he snaps out of it as though he were in a trance before and my words have brought him back to reality. "Oh! Sorry!" He begins to move and then freezes as panic overtakes his face, though I'm not sure what for. The next thing I know he practically leaps for the pile of dirty laundry and grabs it into a ball that he holds in front of his stomach and lower waist.

"I'm just gonna go put these into the laundry downstairs. I'll...be back." I watch, intrigued, as he rushes out of the room. _Did I do something wrong?_

When he comes back twenty minutes later he looks more than a little embarrassed, though I can't fathom what for. By this point it's getting dark outside. I had thought it was morning time when I woke earlier...I guess I was wrong. "I fed the animals and put the chickens up." He states, walking up to the side of my bed, then bending down and reaching an arm under my bare thighs as he lifts me up.

"Peeta! What are you doing?" I can't help but panic a little. Does he realize that I don't have on any underwear? My shift is already riding up dangerously high on my thighs. I have no idea where he intends on taking me at this point.

"You're sleeping with me tonight. I don't have any extra sheets to fit the bed in here." His tone isn't demanding, but it is firm.

Inexplicably, I find myself resting my head on his shoulder and just giving in. I want to be mad at him or at least make the excuse that I am only letting him do as he wants because I'm too tired to care, but the the truth is that I honestly don't mind the idea of sleeping in hid bed again. Last time it smelled like cinnamon. Besides, I have been bored and lonely in the spare room I claimed. He gently puts me down on the far side of the bed away from the door and nearer to the window. Its the same side I slept on last time. The only problem is that I'm not at all sleepy. I'm tired, yes, and I hurt, but my sleep schedule is really off at this point and I worry that I'll keep him awake. Still, I lay my head against the pillow and take in the glorious smells of cinnamon and vanilla and Peeta. Oddly, the nausea actually abates a little at all the comforting smells instead of intensifying as I had expected. Everything about the smell of this bed is warm and comfortable, just like Peeta is.

Peeta props my foot up with a pillow and then goes to the dresser, presumably to find something to wear to sleep. I watch him from my place in his bed as he unabashedly pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into a large woven hamper I hadn't noticed before. He is facing away from me, but I can see his perfect skin in the dim glow of the bed side lamp. It's lighter than mine and the muscles in his shoulders and arms are easy to make out. He unfastens his belt and sheds his pants without preamble and my eyes move south over his legs. He is a stocky man overall, but beautiful. I wonder, a little nervously, if he is going to take off his boxers as well. He turns around and looks at me as though it were everyday that he stands in front of a woman in nothing but his underwear.

"I'm gonna go grab your hairbrush." Is all he says. My jaw drops a little. Both of us are in his bedroom, practically naked, with me in his bed watching his strip and he's thinking about getting a hairbrush? Maybe I've been wrong about Peeta. Maybe it isn't his self control I should be worried about.

I wish I was a better conversationalist. As he comes back into the room and I sit up, he goes and sits behind me, brushing through my damp hair. I just sit there, like an idiotic bump on the log with nothing to say. I've never been good with words. I have never wished I was more than right now though. All I can hear is both of our breathing. I can feel Peeta sitting behind me, one leg on either side of where I sat and his breath hot on my neck. Eventually, he finishes and places the brush down on the side table. Suddenly, I am terrified that he is going to move from his place behind me. His body is warm and comforting there and his breath is tickling me a little. I want him to stay exactly where he is. I allow myself to do what comes naturally and just lean back to him, resting my back against his stomach and my head at his chest.

"Thank you." Is all I can come up with to say. I'm more relaxed than I should be in this position. Something about this man...it's almost as though he has some kind of gravitational pull on me. If I get too close it's nearly impossible to move away again.

"Sure..." His voice is shakier than I expected. I can tell he is nervous. I know I should be nervous.

Only... I'm not.

I take in another deep breath of cinnamon and vanilla and my husband. Then I smile to myself at the burgeoning realization that I may be much more of a softy than I ever realized. _If a girl wasn't careful she could lose her heart to a boy like this..._

_Should I have been more careful?_ I hold back a private chuckle at myself. _Maybe it never was a matter of being careful._

_Maybe_, I think as I feel Peeta gracefully wrap his arms around me, _maybe with this man it was always a matter of inevitability._


	12. Chapter 12

Peeta's breath is hot against the top of my head as he leans down just slightly. I feel his lips press against my hair. His arms are wrapped around my waist gently, his fingers ghosting little invisible designs onto where my shift covered my sides and stomach. I remain laying back against him, quiet, still, breathing in deep the smells of the baker man behind me. His hand moves to my arm and gently rubs at the bare skin there. I am content to simply lay there and let him do as he pleases at this point, which makes no sense. It goes against every personality trait I thought I had. I have never been this passive and certainly never have imagined that some man could soften me so much that I would simply lie back and take whatever he gave. He doesn't try to do anything else. He doesn't try to have his way with me. He just moves away gently, quietly, his hands ghosting up my arms and shoulder as he leaves his place behind me and lays my body back. Through my sleep heavy heavy eyes I see him move to lay beside me and watch as he pulls the covers over us both. Despite sleeping half the day already, I was gone within seconds.

I wake when he stirs, so early in the morning that it isn't light out yet. I know that bakers keep early hours, so this doesn't surprise me exactly. But I instantly miss the contact and the heat when he moves his arm from my stomach. I keep my eyes closed as he presses a kiss to my forehead and slides his hand down the side of my cheek before he gets up completely. I can feel the slight warm tingle of his kiss even after his lips aren't touching me. He doesn't notice me open my eyes and watch him as he goes about his morning routine. I can't seem to make myself look away as he undresses, casually tossing his boxers into the hamper and walking naked to through the door to take a shower before work. I know I shouldn't look. I don't know what's wrong with me. Everything about him is stocky and muscular in way that is achieved naturally through hard work rather than from vanity. I have never seen a completely naked man before, except for on our kitchen table a couple times after mining accidents when mom was treating them. One had a severe burn on his upper thigh and I remember mom telling him to take his pants off so she could treat the area. He was covered in coal dust, even in his personal areas. I remember thinking that his penis looked disgusting and hairy and weird and that I never wanted to see another one again.

Peeta looked nothing like that. As he strolled back into the room after his quick shower I had a hard time not looking at...it. First off, Peeta was clean and coal dust free. He did have hair...but it was blonde like the rest of his hair. It did look weird, but not disgusting like I thought it might. As he got dressed for the day I wondered if this is how he had always intended things to be- me asleep in his bed when he wakes and goes about getting ready for work every morning. I felt as though I should at least be getting him coffee or something, but I knew better than to try with my leg still so messed up. I didn't feel nauseous though, so that was one point in favor of the new day.

I drift back to sleep when he leaves and I dream of a place full of sugar cookies and pastries that smells like vanilla and cinnamon. Prim is there, giggling loudly and eating a sugar cookie in one hand while she is holding something in the other. The bundle squirms around in her arm and Peeta offers to take it from her. Its a baby. Prim is still eating her cookie as she hands the infant over. I'm watching them and shaking my head, pretending to be exasperated even though I'm not. When I turn there is a Christmas tree in front of me and I realize that I'm decorating it as Peeta holds the baby. I turn around a little farther to see mom sitting at the table drinking coffee and smiling. I feel so contented. Prim and mom aren't skinny anymore and I realize with a start that instead of being thin myself I'm very pregnant with a second child. My huge belly is covered with a hunter green dress looks new and expensive. There is a knocking at the front door and I go to answer it, but everyone keeps trying to get me to leave it locked. Prim is crying and Peeta begs me not to open the door but for some unknown reason to me I do anyway. Then I feel the rocks that people are throwing. One hits my pregnant belly and all the sudden there is blood pooling all over my feet and thighs and I go to scream, but no noise comes out. Then another rock hit my leg and I fall to the floor, silently creaming in the horrible pain it causes.

I wake to my sister violently shaking me.

"Katniss! Wake up Katniss! Quit screaming and wake up!" It takes me a moment to adjust my eyes to the bright light streaming in through the open window. Prim is perched on the edge of the bed beside me. I take in several breaths and try to get my bearings. I hate that she's seeing me this way. It's usually my job to wake her from nightmares, not the other way around.

"Are you okay, sis?"

I nod, wishing she wouldn't look so worried. "I'm fine. What are you doing here? You should be in school."

"It's lunch hour. Mom told me to come check on you at lunch."

At this I relax a little and pull myself up into a sitting position. "Have you eaten yet?"

She nods her head. "I ate with Peeta at the bakery. He gave a sandwich with bakery bread and sliced ham and chocolate chip cookies. If you decide to go off and marry Gale I wanna take your place. Peeta is great!"

I frown at this. "I'm not going to go off to marry Gale. Why would you think that?"

She shrugs, looking embarrassed, and her eyes fall to her lap. "That's what everyone's saying in school. They say that you're an adulterer- whatever that means."

"Well they're wrong." I reply forcefully. "And you aren't selling your papers to anyone. Ever. Do you understand me? Ever. You're going to finish school and become a healer or maybe even a doctor one day."

"Yeah." Her voice is small and lacking any sort of confidence. I don't like it at all. Doesn't she trust me to take care of her? Isn't that what this whole thing is about?

"No, listen to me, Prim. You are. You are gonna go through school and do anything you want. Then one day you'll marry whoever you want. It won't be anything like this."

"I don't think Peeta's so bad." She nearly whispers.

I reach out and stroke her shoulder, even though my arms feel like they weigh fifty pounds each. "He's not. He's a good man, but that's not how this process usually goes. I got lucky. But, you know you really are going to be fine. Mr. Mellark even said you could have a job at the bakery when you get older if you want it."

I watch her face light up at this and feel instantly better despite the horrible pain emanating from my bad leg. She hugs me and then practically bounces off the bed. I chuckle at her.

"Now get back to school!" I demand, trying to sound stern even though I'm still chuckling at her excitement.

"Okay!" She nods vigorously, suddenly in the mood to please me, apparently. "Oh yeah. Peeta told me to give you this for lunch." Prim produces a brown bag and glass of water from a tray I hadn't noticed atop the dresser. "Bye sis!" I hug her one more time and watch as she races out the door so she wouldn't be too late for her next class.

It's a better lunch than what the vast majority of district twelve can afford to eat. I reach in to pull a bright green apple, a thick whole wheat sandwich with ham and lettuce and cheese, and even a brownie. Its similar to what Prim had said Peeta fed her at the bakery. For a brief moment, I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt at knowing that it was without any doubt the best school lunch Prim has ever had. Peeta probably didn't even think twice. If I consented to give him children they would have one of the best packed lunches of all the children in school. They would never be forced to skip and watch the others eat. They would never have to lie about not feeling hungry. They would never have to sit in class so dizzy with hunger that is it impossible to concentrate like I did. And Peeta- no. I shake my head wondering what is wrong with me for indulging in such fantasies. I don't want children. I've already had to mother Prim and that is enough for one lifetime. Still, the image of a little blonde haired boy laughing as he plays with Peeta invades my mind and I can't help but smile at the thought- briefly, before coming back to my senses.

The afternoon passes by slowly. Agonizingly slowly. I can't move and there's nothing to do but lay here and wait for Peeta to come home. When I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and through the door I sit up as best as possible and find myself smiling in anticipation.

And then I feel a sudden wave of panic as I watch Mr. Mellark enter the room.

_Author's Note: I'm sorry it's short, but I figured most readers would rather me go ahead and post a short chapter instead of waiting even longer for a normal length one. I just moved into my first house and also just started a new job, so I've been ridiculously busy and my attention is going in a million directions at once. I will finish the story, so have no fear of that if you've been following along. I appreciate you all hanging in there with me this long. Pretty soon I may be switching to Peeta's POV...what do ya'll think? Yea or nay? I tend to get annoyed at stories that switch back and forth, but there is sooo more more going on with Peeta right now than Katniss. Anyway, I'd love to hear everyone's opinions and thanks for all the reviews and support thus far!_


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